Hourglass
by Lyaka
Summary: 60 minutes of eternity. 3,600 seconds of oblivion. How long does it take to change the course of a cruel destiny? How long does it take to fall in love... again? SeiferQuistis
1. 9:54 AM - 9:59 AM

Author's Notes:  
  
This piece is rather introspective. It's told entirely in first person, from the alternating perspectives of Seifer (he said) and Quistis (she said). It starts off with Seifer in the Disciplinary Room near the start of the game, but is actually set post-game. He explains it concisely enough himself, but if it's really confusing leave me a review about it and I'll clear things up next chapter.  
  
Squaresoft is not mine.  
  
As I was writing this I randomly threw in quotes from various literary sources as they came to me and seemed appropriate. I own none of them. I don't want to spoil anyone patting themselves on the back for catching one of them, so I'll wait until this is finished to post the full list of what I quoted and where. Think of it as an odd sort of scavenger hunt, if you want. In the meanwhile, I own none of the quotes from other works used within.  
  
Of course, you don't need to be confused to leave me a review. If you enjoy this, please leave one! (blatant hinting ^_- )  
  
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~Hourglass~  
---------------  
  
  
9:54 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
  
Anymore, staring at the clock gives me the strangest feeling. I try to look at it impersonally, the hand marching around the edge in a steady rhythm familiar since childhood, when Matron first taught us to tell time. But the second hand is moving forward and I'm stranded here, sliding backwards through a pile of events I can't hope to change but perhaps, this time around, to control.  
  
I've got an appointment at oh-ten-hundred hours.  
  
But in the meanwhile I've only these four walls to distract me, and they're nothing new. Not that anything is. I've done this before, I know the script, no fear- for the sake of destiny I'll follow along, play my cues, whatever it takes to bring me face-to-face again with Ultimecia. Then things will be different. But until then nothing's changed but my thoughts.  
  
What was I thinking then? It feels like years ago and technically it was. A year from the time I first broke out of the disciplinary room until Ultimecia's final defeat, when the memory blocks broke; then another year relatively, flying back in time on the wings of the last remnants of Time Compression in the hopes of making things right.  
  
I remember what I was thinking, now. The part of me that's left over speaks up. How we merged I still don't know; but Ultimecia has something to do with it, I'm certain. She wouldn't compress time merely to watch it be rend asunder by paradox.  
  
The emotions are there again. I reach out instinctively to touch them as I would a foreign object before reality catches up and I let my leather-gloved hand drop. Heat rushes through me as I feel the adrenaline again, blood pounding, thought floating hotly to the surface like burning bubbles on a roiling sea of fire.   
  
|They can't handle it alone!|  
|What was Cid thinking, sending three new SeeDs on a mission like *this*?|  
|I'm not around to fight with them! We're a team, can't he see it, how could he break us up?|  
|They don't know what's really going on... I have to tell them, have to help them...|  
  
What a fool I was. They didn't need my help; I needed theirs. I just made it worse.  
  
Made. Key word. Past tense.  
  
  
  
  
9:56 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
  
Oh, Hyne. He did it again. Why couldn't he pass? I tried everything, anything I knew. I worked with him one-on-one, I worked with him in class. I met his barbs, encouraged them, slapped them down. Called on him constantly, then let him relax and ignore me. Trying to find what worked. In the end I even played to his pride, petitioning Cid to make him squad leader. So that he didn't have to take orders. So that he didn't have to bend.  
  
But thought I tried everything new I still got a rerun. Once again I didn't see his name heading the pass list. I looked so eagerly but all I saw was (Dincht, Zell) followed by (Leonhart, Squall) (Mark, Nida) and (Tilmitt, Selphie). And he's almost out of time, he's already 18. His birthday isn't till December, he's got one more chance to prove himself on the fall field test. But after that- the end. And I was, in some ways, his last chance. He'd already gone through every other Instructor in Garden. They couldn't handle him, transferred him out or just let him fail, dumping him on someone else. {Too bad; he's your problem now.} And now that they've taken away my license, I wonder, what will he do? What chance has he left, really?  
  
An old dream.  
  
  
[He and Squall, together. Friends, and smiling, at *her*, in brand-new SeeD uniforms, telling her that it was thanks to her they'd made it. "You're the best Instructor in Garden, Quistis." Oh, how she'd longed to hear those words...]  
  
  
But only one student made SeeD. And all he said to me was "Go talk to a wall", after he'd done smiling at someone else. I don't even know who she is...  
  
While the other student was destroying Garden property, so now, then next morning, when all I want nothing more than to curl up in bed and cry to my stuffed animal and nurse the hangover I've gotten from trying to make it all go away, I'm summoned to come pick up my errant student. Not mine anymore, but no one knows that yet, Cid told me privately yesterday when I reported in after the field test. Next week, when the summer class schedule is posted, my name simply won't be on the list. And everyone will know.  
  
What will Garden say? What will *they* say?  
  
And I must smile at the guard and nod when he greets me as "Instructor", watch Seifer smirk at me and drawl, "Come to pick up your favorite student, Trepe?"  
  
And I can't stop thinking how I'm terribly afraid he won't make it in the end. That he'll wash out, for all his brilliance, for all that he and Squall between them could take on everybody in Garden and come out victorious...  
  
And that scares me, too. They won't admit it but they're practically twins, underneath the personalities that seem so different. Am I the only one who sees that they're two halves of the most perfect fighting team ever to exist? Together they are invincible, but they can't get along without each other no matter what they think. If Seifer falls it's only a matter of time until Squall does too. Not right away, he may even think he's better off, but in the end he won't be able to become anything more.  
  
There's the door.  
  
  
  
  
9:58 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
  
  
The fear is coming in again. It's like the tide, inexorable yet merciful. I'm not used to it. I was always in control. And Ultimecia suppressed emotions of that sort. But now I'm humbled and it nibbles away at me.  
  
If this works...  
  
Then I will never need to be humble again. I can be proud, again, but not the way I was. This pride is not based on bluster or brag or brashness. It's based on the fact that I came back. I destroyed much of the world, two Gardens, and nearly all of Time. I was broken, beaten, despised, better off dead. Yet I came back anyway. Through it all, I still somehow believed myself worthy of a second chance. If it works, no one will ever know. But it will be enough.  
  
If this doesn't work...  
  
That is why I am afraid.  
  
I'm molding clay and playing with fire and dancing with death and I'm doing it all at once.  
  
However badly the world was left when I awoke from my 'romantic' dream, I could by attempting this make it so much worse. Trabia and Galbadia Gardens could be rebuilt; Balamb Garden, the true nerve center of SeeD, remains, with a group of heroes walking its halls. The world reveres them, will listen to their 'suggestions'. Especially with Esthar coming out of its isolationist shell, sharing its technology. Especially with Squall's father as its president. I knew from the moment I saw him who he was. He couldn't have been anyone else. And I can trust Squall to be fair; that was never in doubt. The new world he builds would probably be better than the old.  
  
And by trying to change things I mess with a destiny set in stone for thousands of years, since the first Sorceress War. We are the prophesied, Liberi Fatali, and it was foretold that one of us would be the traitor. By changing destiny I invalidate that fate, and without that guarantee Ultimecia's reign of terror might be so much worse. It might even be unstoppable. The thought chills me. I was her weak link.  
  
But I can't just let it rest the way it is. Too many dead, if not by my hand then by my order. And every one of them trusted me. Galbadian troops who believed in my prowess as a general to bring them safely home to wives and sweethearts. Simple, common folk who believed in simple, common decency. SeeDs and cadets who once would have greeted me as a brother for the uniform I now wear again. The familiar colors, the familiar lapels. The name ALMASY ironed on, the rank bars on my collar, classman level 5. Pre-graduate courses.   
  
And I wish, for a moment, that I could have gone back farther, to this last SeeD exam, and not run off this time. Stayed with Squall and Zell and Selphie, fought with them, though it wouldn't make a difference in the results; showed them a harsh truth I learned only too late, that we're a team, all of us, and despite animosities and seeming incompatibility we're nothing without each other, something's missing if one's not there. Even surrounded by people when under Ultimecia I was alone, without them. The Orphanage Gang. It wasn't just coincidence that we were all six of us there together. Liberi Fatali.  
  
Did Rinoa try to fill my spot? I know the others tried to let her but she can't be me, she can only be herself. She can do what I can't, make Squall a human being again, infuse optimism in a group of youths too lost and disillusioned to believe in the greater good of mankind ourselves. But she can't do what I can, make the Gang whole again. She's not an original but we need her just the same, she was part of us as well. In some ways her very difference knits us together. Only when we're all together can we truly be happy.  
  
I brush my fingers over the insignia to remind myself of exactly what it is that I lost a year and an eternity ago, what I in my foolishness gave up for empty promises... I never realized until it was too late that she was within my reach all along. Pining over Squall, always he came first... I didn't realize that Rinoa was waiting in the wings to steal his heart. I didn't realize that long-buried memories would surface. Squall started out as a substitute but she forgot who she wanted him to be and I never knew. And now, from where she stands neither of us are reachable. The others can make it but for all her strength there's one thing no one can protect themselves from. I failed her before, but now is my chance, now is forever, now is eternity, now is slipping by so quickly. At thirteen hundred hours, in Timber, I will square off against Ultimecia and try to alter a destiny more cruel than any of us realized at the time. But first, I have a meeting with Quistis. At oh-ten-hundred.  
  
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A/N: If you read to the end, why not leave a review? ^^ please? 


	2. 10:00 AM - 10:04 AM

A/N: Wow, I'm flattered by everyone's reviews! Thanks so much! I was so encouraged I got this out in record time. It might have somthing to do with the pickles I ate yesterday and today ^_-.   
  
This part is a little shorter than last part because I want the next part to come out all at once. You'll see what I mean. With a bit of luck I'll have that out soon. Reviews would help me write faster (hint hint!)  
  
Oh yes: I updated a revised copy of the first chapter. At the bottom I typed Dollet when I meant Timber (oops) and there were a few niggling typos I fixed. I'm an anti-typo freak; what can I say?  
  
And I didn't know if Quezacoatl had a gender, so I made him male.  
  
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~Hourglass~  
---------------  
  
  
10:00 AM  
(She said)  
  
Why should opening a single door be so hard? It's just metal, I don't even have to physically pull it, just hit the touchpad and it will swing open, the miracle of modern mechanics.  
  
But it's like I'm mired in gel, the air around me turning to water and I'm floundering, buffeted by currents I don't understand. My instincts are going haywire, screaming at me to stop. I do, freezing with my hand inces from the pad, then inching it away slowly, overwhelmed, until the disconcerting rush fades to a trickle I can control. Deep breaths become my friends as I struggle for calm in the anteroom, trying to make no noise to alert the token guard still standing outside the corridor. Why can't I open the door?  
  
I still feel nauseus. I try to grasp the source but it slips through my fingers.  
  
[Change,] Quezacoatl chimes suddenly.  
  
And he's right. I can see it now, it's the same fear I've felt before when change threatened, but worse, so much worse, magnified a thousand times over, almost primal in its intenisty. It's foolish, I can see that, what could opening a door change? Nothing, don't be silly, I've just got to pick up Seifer, that's all. Everything's all right. I'll just open the door.  
  
  
10:01 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
Sixty seconds stretch into infinity. I know what will happen. She'll open the door with that look in her eyes, that awful sad and disappointed gaze I can't stand. I tried so hard to pass this time, Quistis, please believe me, it's not your fault, you're the only person who ever cared and it made all the difference in the world. I wish I could take back every time I called you mediocre; you don't deserve it. You don't deserve what they've done to you now, either, taking your lisence away; destiny needed you available but that doesn't mean it's any less cruel. If only I had passed. But I couldn't. Liberi Fatali. Is that what it's become? An excuse? Oh, well, sorry, but fate led me here. Right. I never used to even believe in fate. It doesn't matter now anyway. All that is going to change.  
  
I know you're standing out there, I know what's happening to you. I want to help you but my hands are still tied. I may disdain fate but that doens't mean I can mess with it with impunity. Time is such a fragile thing and until the outside world contacts me I can't contact it. And it could all fall apart, right here, right now, if your instinctive fear of change is stronger than your will. Ordinarily it's no contest but you're fragile now, you've been beaten and I don't know if you've recovered yet. I'll protect you, if you come through, no matter what mess I make of things I swear you'll come through all right. I've seen the future. I know what you'll become if things take their natural course. I can change it, and it scares me, the power, knowing that I can make it different. It's what I wanted for so long, but I was too proud to bend, and too proud to see how much you needed me after all, and only after I turned to Ultimecia in desperation did I discover you were within my reach all along. Now our roles are reversed. I have the power and the knowledge but you've got to take the first step.  
  
Just open the door.  
  
  
10:02 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
As soon as my fingers hit the touchpad I feel the change. Sensation washes over me; the constricted, almost desperate feeling of fear is gone, as if it never was. Instead I feel almost dizzy, like I'm looking over the edge of a tall building and can't see the ground below. Winds are blowing at me from all sides, there are no restrictions. Strongest wind cannot be seen.  
  
He's waiting exactly as I supposed he'd be, sprawled on the room's one bench, leaned back against the far wall, customary smirk firmly in place. The dizziness fades slightly as those jade eyes flick up at me; I know what he'll say even before he opens his mouth.  
  
"Instructor Trepe." Is that warmth sarcastic or real? He stands now, is that meant as a gesture of respect? More likely he's mocking me again as he stretches languidly, showing off an almost catlike grace at odds with his size and bulk. He's stepped closer; the distance is more than polite but it feels so much closer when he teases me softly in a voice I have to strain to hear, "Come to rescue your favorite student, Trepe?"  
  
  
10:03 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
I'm breathing hard, hoping she doesn't notice. I must keep my wits about me. Words I once said tumble through my head but come reluctantly to my lips; I don't want to follow this script. The phrases mock me, this time; I don't want to toss them at her because I know they'll hurt her, carefully tuned words piercing her inadequate armor, worn down and abraded by years of self-doubt and a recent blow of despair. But in order to come face-to-face with Ultimecia I must. At some point it's not ironic anymore, only cruel. I want to spare her this but I'm already a step too close and the next line is hers anyway.  
  
  
10:04 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
It's the traditional line, I've heard it a thousand times before. Not in so many words, but the same greeting, the reference to himself as my favorite student. He says it satirically but it's true; wouldn't he gloat if he found out. I'm proud of Squall but he didn't *need* me. Seifer needed me. I failed him. How much more would he taunt me if he knew the truth?  
  
The familiar response leaps to my throat but it seems to get stuck halfway. I'm tired of the same old words, the same old game, it only seems to have one ending and I can never win. I can see what will happen, it's like a movie I've seen too many times before. We'll fence with our words, throwing barbs casually as if they were nothing. Mine will glance off his armor but his will cut deep. And I can't handle it today, of all days, I'm too tired of all of this, too weary to hold my own, too disillusioned to maintain the facade. He'll push me too hard, I'll fall apart. And then he'll leave. Too proud to bend, too self-reliant to deal with others. Gone. Just. Like. That.  
  
I don't want to go down that road.  
  
I don't think I'd survive it. In the long run.  
  
"Trust me, you don't want the kind of rescue I seem to give."  
  
And I don't say it angrily, or sadly. I just say it honestly.  
  
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^^ Reviews please! Feed my creativity! 


	3. 10:05 AM - 10:09 AM

A/N: Well, it's a day short of record time, but it's long so I hope you'll all forgive me. ^^v  
  
As usual I own nothing. I believe I forgot to mention that last chapter, so this disclaimer goes for both chapters. Suing me would gain Squaresoft approximately three pennies plus some dryer lint.  
  
  
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~Hourglass~  
---------------  
  
  
10:05 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
I freeze. Completely. Shut down, locked up, awareness shunted sideways as I frantically try to reassess, get some grip on the situation.  
  
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.  
  
And with that single realization everything's changed, what I thought was true no longer is. Perhaps the rest of the world is unaware, but she and I are cut off, freewheeling through time, unconnected. Foreknowledge rendered useless in one stroke. Everything is different now. There was a path to tread, a familiar encounter to re-enact, leading to a predictable outcome. A life-altering meeting in a comm tower in Timber.  
  
But now the path has been yanked from beneath us like a tablecloth by a ten-gil magician. Abracadabra and it's gone, everything I knew that would help me change what I can't let come to pass. I stand before Quistis now empty-handed, as lost as she is, like everyone else in this time, with no idea what the immediate future holds, but worse, because a change in words won't alter destiny. Unless I face Ultimecia nothing will change except the participants. And now I don't know how to get there.  
  
We need to get back on track.  
  
What happened before? We spoke. I left. So simple, but now impossible. Our words have changed. So will my departure.  
  
I force myself to breathe deeply. I'm not sunk yet. As long as I board that train to Timber, as long as I make it to the comm tower in time, there is still a chance of saving this. My goals change, narrow. The 10:54 from Balamb is the limit of my aspirations. I can still make that.  
  
And now the possibilities are crashing through my head. I can change things here, now. Without altering a predestined meeting. What happens in this little room, cut off from the rest of the world now by more than simple stone walls, has no bearing on anything. I need not hurt her. Things can be... different.  
  
I glance up from my introspection to see her eyes resting on me, beautiful sapphire awaiting a mocking retort. No, Quistis. I'll never scorn you. I can step closer now; a thousand things are running riot through my head. Hyne, I've waited two years for this, changed time and space and destiny for this moment, and when I finally get the chance I don't know what to say.  
  
I have just an hour. The clock is ticking, can I do this in time? Can I make her understand in sixty precious minutes what it has taken me eighteen years to realize? Destiny and love make strange bedfellows. Yet on some level she must know already. It all comes back to time. So much of it wasted, so little left. An error in timing can blow this entire scheme.  
  
"I'd never accept anyone else's."  
  
Please understand what I'm trying to say.  
  
  
10:06 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
And what exactly is that supposed to mean?  
  
He's supposed to snap back, he's supposed to be smug, he's supposed to tell me he doesn't need anyone to rescue *him*. Not the Great Seifer Almasy.  
  
Apparently I'm not the only one who's decided to dispense with the script.  
  
Whose line is it anyway?  
  
He moved closer to me... in more ways than one. What is he doing? This isn't like him, this is so completely out of character it's not even rumor-worthy. Seifer Almasy is not supposed to admit he needs help from anyone, anywhere. Ever.  
  
But he's willing to accept mine.  
  
What makes me so special all of a sudden? Why would he accept something from the useless, mediocre former Instructor, whom he's gone out of his way countless times to ridicule and belittle, that he wouldn't touch were it to come from anyone else?  
  
I don't know why he's suddenly reaching out to me but I desperately want to reach back, to save him from where I sense he's headed. Perhaps it's not too late. Sudden, revitalized hope catches in my throat, it's *not* too late. He can still stand proudly at the graduation ball. Still tell me my teaching made some difference in his life. I don't care if they never give me back my license if only I know it was worth it in the end.  
  
"Was it?"  
  
I didn't mean to say that out loud.  
  
  
10:07 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
Was it what? Why? I don't understand what she's asking me but I know what she wants, what she's reaching blindly for. I always know but I was too proud, too self-reliant to do anything before this but brush aside her outstretched hand. Reassurance, appreciation, worth. And I can do it. One simple, little word is all it takes.  
  
But where a second ago I had a thousand inane phrases littering my mind now it's blank, and even if it weren't I can't seem to remember how to talk anyway. I can't let her hang, I can't stop from moving even closer. Her breath catches, she's confused, I don't blame her. It's like I'm on tracks, rolling forward, inexorably. I brush her arm and it's amazing, wonderful, I don't even know why. It's so innocuous it's sensual. I want to reassure her, we weren't close but I try for the friendly touch, try not to scare her, oh Hyne I can't even think straight. The feeling is the same as it was the first time I slid down this slippery slope head over heels. Two figurative years removed from this time I'm falling in love with her all over again, and at the worst possible time. I want to just be with her, not doing or saying anything, not even thinking. Whenever we do that there's trouble, an argument, we 'have words', but in the silence we can forget and be ourselves. One day I want to stand with her on the beach, hold her in my arms as the tide rolls in, watch the sky fill with stars, see her bathed in the moonlight, beautiful and ethereal and mine. The moon is a rock and the sky is full of deadly hardware, but oh Hyne, how beautiful anyway.  
  
  
10:08 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
I'm trembling, he must be able to feel it. I would break out in goosebumps if the room weren't suddenly twenty degrees to hot. I'm not used to this, I've never felt this, he's never done this before. What if he had? What would have changed?  
  
He moves his hand back abruptly, hesitating for a second, and I shiver suddenly, feeling far too cold without his warmth. Instinctively I want him back. He's watching me closely, almost warily, as if he's afraid of what I might do. I don't even know what I want to do. If anyone else had done that I'd have shied away, left, but the only direction I'm interested now is closer to him. It's unexpected and dangerous and exciting all at once.  
  
  
10:08 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
I never thought she'd look at me like that. She has the most beautiful bedroom eyes. How is it that no one ever noticed? Do the Trepies count? Never did I let myself dream she would gaze at *me* with that look in her eyes. I don't think she even knows it's there herself, and sure as hell she doesn't know what it does to me. It always seemed so unreachable. Even at the height of Ultimecia's power, when I slept alone at night with only her promise that one day soon I'd have her. I didn't find out until too late that I never needed the sorceress at all, that Quistis was waiting for me to come to her all along. But I still never dared to dream. After what I've done I never felt I could.  
  
But suddenly, now, I feel I can.  
  
  
10:09 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
I feel like a *teenager*. Theoretically I am one but I've never acted my age; I was the responsible one, the mature one. Becoming a SeeD at 15 and an Instructor at 17 meant by necessity foregoing youth. No hanging out at Balamb clubs, no giggling over popcorn in dorm rooms, no lingering in the secret area after curfew for a stolen kiss and a moment of togetherness. Not even a crush, except on Squall, but then every girl in Garden had a crush on him at one time or another, and that never made me feel this way. I've knows Seifer for years but somehow this is completely different. It hit me like a punch to the stomach the second his fingers brushed my arm, a whammy of attraction I'm completely unprepared for. I feel like singing, like grinning uncontrollably, like running the Garden Festival Committee... like I'm young, giddy and in love.  
  
How long does it take to fall in love? You'd think it's a gradual process but I'm terribly afraid I just did, and with the last person I would ever have suspected.  
  
Well, they do say opposites attract.  
  
Maybe it's been happening, without my knowing it, for years.  
  
And then he kissed me.  
  
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I'm evil ) I hope this wasn't too sappy. as that's not the point, but this *is* a Seiftis, after all. Many many huggles to everyone who reviewed me! I'm stocking up on pickles for my next writing binge. Oh, and I want to try writing something for the Seiftis contest. It looks like so much fun; after I read the phrases and objects I just couldn't resist. :)  
  
Review me! *puppy dog eyes* 


	4. 10:10 AM - 10:14 AM

A/N: Another day, another five minutes for your enjoyment. ^^ We're about a quarter of the way done now. Enjoy!  
  
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~Hourglass~  
--------------  
  
  
  
10:10 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
Oh, Hyne, you can send me to hell if you want. I don't care. I've been to heaven.  
  
  
10:10 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
This must be what it's like to be drunk. I'm hot all over and I can barely think straight and all I want is for this never to end...  
  
  
10:10 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
I'm dizzy, my vision is fuzzy and I can barely stand. It's like I stood up too fast and all the blood rushed from my head, except I'm standing on top of a roller coaster, 23 stories of drop below me held back by the slimmest of steel bars and a fervent prayer.  
  
And I'm praying now, for only the second time in my life. Praying that she won't slap me and leave, or worse, make some cutting, sarcastic comment that would hurt so much more. Praying that she'll forgive me, for crimes I haven't committed yet, for the petty infractions I have, for moving too fast, for being myself when I want to be someone else, someone better.  
  
She's trembling beneath my lingering fingers, I can feel her pulse racing. Despite my blurry view I can see her; golden hair shining, blue eyes shining- is that thappiness? Can I make her as happy as she deserves?  
  
  
10:11 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
I'm just standing here and breathing and even that seems inordinately hard. I still can't think straight, mental patterns overlapping, running on and on like Doomtrain only I've forgotten the punctuation...  
  
Stop.  
  
Breathe.  
  
Think.  
  
I just got kissed. By Seifer Almasy.  
  
And damn, it was everything I ever dreamed it would be, everything I thought about in my dorm room on those lonely, lonely nights.  
  
I never thought it would be him, though. Not Seifer. He's too proud, too self-reliant to get entangled with anyone else that way. Fujin and Raijin notwithstanding: they're more like followers than friends. And I never thought that even if he did associate, he would come far down enough from his height to even look twice at me.  
  
Squall was more accessible.  
  
And I'm frozen, now, remembering a cold-blooded, deliberate choice, made years ago, standing in a corridor. The first time, in the training center, coming upon Squall and Seifer fighting. It was the first sight I'd had of him, and I realize even then I wanted him, with a childlike but real desire. Then the next day, walking proudly down the hallway in a brand-new SeeD uniform. And suddenly being checked into the hard stone wall, the air knocked out of me, and those green eyes mocking me; |"Maybe next time you'll keep out of the way of the Disciplinary Committee."|  
  
It was right then, right there, standing alone, struggling for breath, pressed hard against the cold and unforgiving wall of the corridor and watching with eyes that I refused to let cry his arrogant step as he strode with supreme confidence down a chilled, harsh hallway, that I decided to force him out of my heart.  
  
So I picked Squall. So similar, but ice where he was fire, and I told myself I liked him better and fooled myself into believing it true so well that even three years later I still thought my growing feelings were for him.  
  
So easy to fool myself, so easy to live a lie and even believe it myself. So easy to hide it, even from myself. For rivals it was surprising how often they were to be found together. Wherever one was the other was sure to be. Simple, in the end, to convince myself htat it was the other who stirred these feelings inside me. So simple. So sad. So much time lost because of my pride and his.  
  
I relax suddenly. I don't want to be tense anymore. I don't want to be weighted down by secrets I've kept even from myself. The truth has made me free. I just want what I've always wanted. To be respected, appreciated. Loved.  
  
I glance up at him almost shyly.  
  
So much time lost.  
  
So little time, in the end, for us.  
  
  
10:12 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
And I feel I've got to talk to her, explain, apologize. She's looking at me and I want to melt; wouldn't people laugh if they knew what I really feel?  
  
Arrogant. Fiery. Supremely confident.  
  
Guilty. Cold. Stranded alone in time.  
  
Hopeful. Purposeful. Desperately in love.  
  
How can I tell her all this?  
  
I can't, of course. If only for the sake of time and not the words that won't come. But I can tell her the truth of this time, this place. Most of it. Some of it. At least some of it.  
  
"I'm sorry about the field test, Quistis." I start hesitantly, unsure how to explain a destiny you have to come face-to-face with in order to truly understand. "I couldnt' pass it. There's something else going on here that you didn't know about." If I had passed, I would never have ended up here, in the Disciplinary Room. Never have broken out and run to Timber. Never have become Ultimecia's knight. Destiny demanded my failure. "Squall, Selphie and Zell are already gone. On their first mission. Ostenibly they're working for Rinoa Heartilly-- that girl you saw dancing with Squall last night." She's watching me now, wide-eyed, I've got her full attention but she still doesn't understand. I've got to tread carefully, I mustn't say too much. Just enough truth to enlighten her; just enough kept back to protect her. "Their mission is to free Timber."  
  
"That's bull," Quistis interrupted.  
  
I nodded. "Yes, it is. It's an excuse to get them to TImber. But it had to be well planned. You remember how you thought it was odd, Squall and I both having to make up Advanced GFs?"  
  
"It *was* odd, two pre-graduate students in a mid-level class."  
  
"Cid held us back. He knew this was coming, he's been expecting it for years. He could get away with sending new SeeDs to Timber by calling it a shakedown mission. It was supposed to be me, Squall and Zell, with you to 'supervise'." That actually *had* been Cid's original plan; I saw the mission orders when I was in his office two years- I mean, two weeks ago. He hadn't counted on destiny catching up so fast. He hadn't counted on a spunky new student with nunchaku...  
  
"What changed?"  
  
"Selphie transferred here from Trabia. Cid couldn't send *four* of us. For one thing, he could barely justify sending *one* squad; for another, he'd have to send two others to fill out the squad. Others who have no part in this."  
  
"No part in what?"  
  
"I'm getting there." I stared over her shoulder at the wall, looking at it but not seeing, getting lost in the past. "Someone had to get to Timber by other means. I'd already failed the test three times. It was easy to fail again. Bust up some Garden property so they'd haul me in here and call you to haul me out. Then when you arrive, break out. Run off with you chasing me and catch a train to Timber. We've got to be there at 1300 hours.  
  
  
10:14 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
"But *why*, damn it?" I cried, angry and frustrated and confused. A few minutes ago I had felt so close to him, so hopeful. But instead of the start of something I was hearing of a scheme that made less sense than Cid's ramblings. "Seifer, I don't understand," I pleaded softly, trying to bring him back from the mysterious place he seemed to have gone. "None of this makes any sense, Seifer. What you're describing is-- I don't know-- why, Seifer? Why would Cid purosely hold you back? What's in Timber that's so important? For Hyne's sake, why *us*?"  
  
  
10:14 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
It's hard to realize there really was a time when we didn't know. When we were ignorant of our past and our future, and too caught up in our present even to notice. Yet here Quistis stands, demanding of me an answer to the one question none of us should ever have to ask.  
  
Why us, indeed.  
  
Because of an orphanage by the sea. Because of the woman who ran it. Because she was wonderful, kind, loving. Because she couldn't refuse even a sorceress' last wish to die in peace.  
  
And because, also, of six little children who once played on the steps of a little stone house. Of two children who were always squabbling, of an elder girl whose adoption destroyed the solidiarity of the group. Because of children's dreams and children's hopes and children's trust in the goodness of their Matron. Because of a prophecy, long ago. Because of Liberi Fatali, and a choice we never had.  
  
That's why. And if it's not reason enough, it's all the reason there is.  
  
"...because."  
  
It's all the reason I can give her.  
  
  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
A/N: ^^ hope everyone's having as much fun reading this as I am writing it.   
  
I know they "oh, they were always in love" theory is cliche by now, but I happen to like it, and with the whole GF memory messer-upper-thingy anything is possible since they would have forgotten anyway.  
  
Also! I need a little help. Not with this fic, but with another one. I wanted to enter a fic for the Seiftis contest, but I don't have the guidlines. Eek! The author account got deactivated, and I can't seem to find anything on the message board. If anyone has a copy of them, could they leave it for me in a review or, better yet, e-mail it to me at thePBR@hotmail.com ? That would be *awesome*. Thanks!  
  
And please review me! Every time I see a new review I squeeze out another few paragraphs. Hence, more reviews equals longer chapters and more frequent updates by boosting my creativity. C'mon, if you read this, please click the blue button!  
  
Lyaka ^^ 


	5. 10:15 AM - 10:19 AM

A/N: It's been a little longer than usual since my last update. Sorry; I was experiencing a slight dip in motivation. Which might having something to do with the few reviews the last part got. (Rabid, blatant begging for reviews there! Take note!) Not like I'm hinting at anything. Oh, no. Perish the thought. :p  
  
Guess what? Seifer has a GF! Not just any GF, he has Alexander. Why? It just seemed like the obvious choice. Alexander's element is Holy, and I always sort of pictured him as a knight in the Middle Ages out on a sacred Crusade (which were, of course, the bloodiest and most brutal wars in history-- which fits his personality even more. He did do some pretty nasty stuff.) So Seifer has Alexander.  
  
AWOL: Military term meaing 'absent without leave'. The politically correct term for a deserter.  
  
And speaking of political correctness, why not check out the fic I wrote (or rather am writing) for the Seiftis contest? It's called 'The Politically Correct Audit'. Read, review, and laugh yourself silly. You know you want to.  
  
---------------  
~Hourglass~  
---------------  
  
  
10:15 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
When he says "...because" it scares me.  
  
I can hear something in his voice that never was there before.  
  
Finality. Irrevocability. Inexorability.  
  
And I know that's all the answer I'm going to get. At least, from him.  
  
It's a curious thing. I'm a book-learner, I operate on facts. But somehow I have no problem accepting this on faith. Somehow I expected this, knew it was coming. We are needed. Why? Because. The rest will come later.  
  
But I'm still afraid. There's a storm ahead. It won't be pretty. What I don't know scares me more than what I do.  
  
"Seifer." He looks at me, speculative eyes trying to gauge my reaction. Piercing eyes, looking right through me. What does he see when he looks at me? Am I worth it? Am I worth him?  
  
"What's in Timber?"  
  
  
10:15 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
Here it comes. Will it jog her memory? Will I see a rush of recognition overwhelm the last of the slowly fading confusion that lingers in those beautiful crystal-blue eyes? Or perhaps... nothing. Those damn GFs.  
  
I feel rather than hear Alexander's wry chuckle in my mind.  
  
"Matron's in Timber."  
  
And there's something there, a flicker of familiarity, a dim memory flashing past her mind's eye. But only for a second, and I can tell that her childhood is still buried beneath Quezacotl's wings in her mind. So, regretfully, I clarify. It would be so much easier if only she would remember, but if I tell her she would never believe, and the only way I have of bringing those memories back might as well be a magnet for Ultimecia's attention.  
  
"Cid's wife. Edea Kramer. She's--" and how do I put this when the name Ultimecia is meaningless and she knows nothing of the true mission of SeeD? Saying 'Sorceress' will only call up the twisted legends used to scare children to bed for centuries. Better to avoid that term. "She's a mage, very strong caster, and she got brainwashed a few years ago--" well, it's only a little lie "--by an even stronger mage, scary as that sounds, named Ultimecia. She's very dangerous. She disappeared, you see, but she's going to be in Timber when they start up the comm tower. The energy it produces will draw her there. Cid wants us to capture her, bring her back for-- for healing." Not bad for thinking on my feet. I never expected to have this conversation. I wrap an arm, tentatively, around her waist, still more than half-expecting her to full away. Instead she leans against me. Hyne, I don't deserve this, I don't deserve her. But I pull her closer anyway. Her head resting against me, she comes up just to my chin when we stand close together. She's an angel. I need her to save me. I can only hope I'm enough to save her.  
  
But first I have to make sure she understands.  
  
Things are already changed. All bets are off.  
  
  
10:16 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
I'm no longer shivering, enveloped in his warmth. I'm not even trembling anymore. I feel *comfortable*, and far more importantly I feel wanted. I don't know how long it will last before he vaults back up to his pedestal and I want to enjoy it.  
  
When we heal Cid's wife (and who would have thought he'd be married? You never knew) I'm going to thank her. However inadvertently, she brought me this.  
  
There's more, I can sense it, even before Seifer starts murmuring into my hair. It muffles his voice and a second alter I understand why. My scalp prickles, the warmth of his breath and body only barely effective against the goosebumps I want to break out in. It would not do for anyone, especially the guard, to hear this. The walls of the Disciplinary Room are thicker then most but they're still stone and it echoes.  
  
This mission is top secret. Squall, Selphie and Zell have an excuse, a veneer of respectability over their presence in Timber. We will have none. The AWOL mark we receive for leaving Garden unauthorized will remain on our records. No one is supposed to know what occurs there, even after the fact, unless something goes horribly wrong. That causes me to shiver involuntarily. Something lurks behind his soft words, something that makes me think he expects it to go wring. A bad feeling in my stomach; I share his foreboding. It sounds far too simple. Nothing's that easy.  
  
There's something he missed.  
  
"Seifer," I breathed, interrupting him. "What does this Ultimecia want? What's her ultimate goal?"  
  
He goes still for a moment, then lets out a soft sigh. His voice when he answers is a kaleidoscope of emotions. A tinge of surprise, as if I should know already; a tinge of disgust, aimed at whom I can't tell; a tinge of angry wistfulness, as if he's remembering something that should be fond but isn't; but mostly determination, as if he'd do whatever it took to prevent this. "Total control," he answers. "World domination."  
  
I should be surprised, disgusted, wistful, determined, worried, incredulous, sarcastic, disbelieving, curious, morbid, unsure. I can think of a thousand words to describe what I should be feeling but I give voice to none because none apply. I merely nod. Because I knew that already.  
  
  
10:17 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
All things considered, she's taking it rather well. Then again, I'm telling her nothing new. All of this is history for her, she knows it all already. Except, of course, for the parts I blatantly lied about. Sooner or later she's going to call me on that. Hopefully later.  
  
More chuckles from Alexander.  
  
From here I can see the clock; it's no time in particular. It's best to get moving.  
  
Can Quistis read my mind? I've wondered that before, as children, when she always seemed to know exactly when I was up to No Good, and I wondered it again now when she asked "What time does our train leave?"  
  
She sounds calm, matter-of-fact, as if she wasn't preparing to blemish her spotless career. I sigh; it's all I can do. There's no help for it. Once Squall becomes Commander, once Quistis becomes a hero, it can be removed, or at least overlooked. It's the most I can hope for. I hope nothing for myself. I learned that the last time around. If I don't lead the Sorceress War, it's the most I can hope for. I tell myself this, but I can't help longing for the golden beauty in my arms.  
  
If I don't move soon, I won't be able to. Hyne, I've become so weak. But she feels so good.  
  
"1054 hours, from Balamb." I manage to tell her.  
  
  
10:18 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
1054 hours; we'd better leave soon, then, if we're to get to Balamb in time. I've got my chain whip; Hyperion should be in the care of the guard outside. If we're going AWOL we daren't take a car; you have to sign those out and we don't want a paper trail.  
  
I'm doing what I always do when presented with a mission or a challenge, thinking it out, being ruthlessly practical, but only part of me is working over the specifics now. The rest of me is angsting about what I'm about to do. I've never broken a Garden rule and here I am preparing to run out on my SeeD contract. But if it's at Cid's order... more confusion. I walked into this room with everything neatly arranged and got promptly turned on my head.  
  
No- that's not right. I've been upside down ever since Cid told me, in that damnably gentle voice so I couldn't even get mad at him, that I couldn't be an Instructor anymore. I was lost and confused and clinging to the shreds of an image I've presented so carefully for over two years. I walked into the room alone and found something I never expected. More secrets, more confusion, and a moment of contact that suddenly made everything right side up again.  
  
I'm seeing more clearly now, in sharp-edged crystal focus, so beautiful and it's like I've been seeing black and white all my life and never noticed until now, when all the color bursts back into my vision, tinting the world in rainbow shades. I look at Seifer upwards, through the screen of my lashes, trying to believe he's actually here, with me, one arm wrapped possessively around my waist. It all seems to fantastic; what if I'm only dreaming? Will I awake alone again, with only a stuffed animal for company, not a living, warm body pressed against me, holding me tightly, chin resting on my head, jade eyes closed, for once no mockery, just a silent moment of togetherness.  
  
I never realized how lonely I was. I thought I had everything I needed. That, too, I convinced myself to forget. Black and white. SeeD, Instructor, perfect little ice goddess. Melt me, refract me, bring the color back into my world. Taste the rainbow. Be something more.  
  
I sigh and wrap my arms around him in response, content to stay here, in the moment. Seifer's embrace is doing for me what the alcohol could not. The world is receding, its troubles and cares seeming suddenly so transient, paling in importance beside the calming, rhythmic beat of his heart beneath my ear, the warmth of his body, his scent, heady and male and utterly *him*. I know time is critical but mission or no mission moving is the last thing I want to do.  
  
It is into this precious moment, this brief haven of contentment snatched out of time, that the knock on the door intrudes.  
  
  
10:19 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
One minute I'm floating, half-drugged by the feeling of her lithe body soft and yielding against mine, her shampoo's fruit scent mixing pleasantly with the whiff of strawberry from her lip gloss, and the next I'm rudely jolted from the halcyon dream by a banging on the metal door. At first, instinctively, my arms tighten around Quistis, protective reflex kicking in. Then reality catches up and I loosed my grip, reluctantly, step away. However wonderful that felt I shouldn't have allowed it to happen, not now, not yet, still too much to do. Still too great the chance for failure. But oh, how I wanted to...  
  
The voice of the guard is coming through now. It's familiar, memory snatched haphazard from an incident we've already missed. I still expect him to be yelling "Halt!" behind me as I run, smirking, through the turnstiles, past the sleepy old gatekeeper and down the road to Balamb...  
  
But instead he says "Instructor Trepe? Is everything all right?"  
  
Quistis flinches slightly and I want to reach for her and ease the sting those words must have caused but I keep my treacherous hands to myself. We haven't time.  
  
I'm relieved to see her squaring her shoulders; she's healing, recovering, rebuilding who she is in the face of what she isn't. "Why, yes," she relies, innocent and puzzled at once. She's a wonderful actor, she's been fooling Garden for years. She's been fooling herself for years. "Of course it is. Why do you ask, Cadet Hidaka?"  
  
I can picture the cadet in my mind's eyes, can almost feel him shrug. "You've been in there for about twenty minutes," he points out. "It doesn't usually take that long."  
  
Quistis sighed. "Cadet Almasy and I have just been discussing the error of his ways," she said firmly, motioning me towards the door. "As a matter of fact, we were just leaving."  
  
As we stroll through the anteroom, just a few steps really, I feel fate lapping at my heels again, destiny urging me forward. For the moment we are in agreement so I let them pull me on. A brief tarry with the guard for my gunblade and then we stride down the hall, purposefully, authoritatively. No one will question us.  
  
With Hyperion by my side and Quistis at my back, I feel I can take on anything. Even Ultimecia. Even fate.  
  
Look out, Timber. Here we come.  
  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
We're moving along now! Hmm, Seifer isn't being completely honest, is he? Can't say I blame him. Quistis hasn't got a clue.  
  
Now that you're done here, why not check out 'The Politically Correct Audit'? And drop me a line...  
  
*beep* "Hi, you've reached Lyaka. I'm not online right now, so please leave a message after clicking the lilac button and I'll love you forever, check out your stuff and probably review you too. Thanks! Bye!"  
  
Lyaka ^^ 


	6. 10:20 AM - 10:24 AM

A/N: Hello again! Sorry this one took a few more days too. I have a different excuse this time: finals. I'm sure you can all feel the pain. I can't complain about the reviews, though. Being my usual review-hungry self, I will of course demand just as many again. ^^ I'm an author; stroke my ego and I'll stroke yours.  
  
Since someone (I can't remember who) mentioned that they're looking forward to Seifer and Quistis getting to Timber I thought I ought to clear that up. I don't know if anyone caught it last chapter, but their train from Balamb leaves 1054 hours. We started at 0954 hours. That's one hour, people. That's it. However (I'm not that mean!) there IS an epilogue at thirteen hundred hours, when they are in Timber. So you get to see it anyway. But don't expect me to clear everything up for you, okay? Also after the epilogue, I answer any and all questions/references, list all the quotes I used, and chat with everyone who reviewed me (yes, everyone). So stay tuned.  
  
As for what all Seifer knows that he's not telling, patience is a virtue. ^_- (listens to readers groan)  
  
Don't forget to leave me a review at the bottom.  
  
Enjoy!   
  
  
---------------  
~Hourglass~  
---------------  
  
  
10:20 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
We're beyond the turnstiles now, though the sleepy guard still has us in his sights. Being out of Garden like this is almost... liberating. The air is fresh and cool, it's not going to be hot today. As a matter of fact it's cloudy, so the sun is mostly hidden, only coming out briefly to flush the world vibrant with sudden light before vanishing again.  
  
Moving at a swift pace the ground is eaten beneath our feet but it will still take some time to get to Balamb. In a car the trip would be a matter of seconds, it's only about two klicks away after all, but on foot, even doubletime, we'll need a good ten minutes to get there. Not that long really but I can feel time pressing in on me, feel it stretching on into infinite eternity, feel it slipping through my fingers like grains of sand grasped in a child's hand on a beach.  
  
|I used to do that.|  
  
Had I? Even I don't know for sure. But I remember a beach, blue water sparkling in the sun; I remember sitting on a cliff looking down at it; I remember... I *don't* remember. I've forgotten.  
  
I haven't thought about my childhood in years. I've been too busy, too focused on my goals. Now suddenly it has loomed up again in my life, assuming a new significance, and I'm disturbed to realize I can't remember. I strain my memory, trying to find the fragments of life before Garden. All I find is blackness. Darkness, a cold, yawning hole in my subconscious, crackled through with lightning, tendrils of electricity like skeletal hands grasping me, hooking its claws through my mind, drawing me in.   
  
I reel back, shocked, shivering uncontrollably. Thoughts spin wild through my head. What happened to me? Why? When? Memory marches back uninterrupted for nearly five years... then fades, holes appearing suddenly like cigarette holes in crackling, onion-thin paper... then nothing. Only that frightening, gaping nothingness I shy away from again, accompanied by an irrational fear.  
  
My sudden movement hasn't gone unnoticed. I can feel Seifer's gaze on me and I calm noticeably under his eyes. Part of that is reflex, conditioned by years of presenting a calculated image. Part of that is instinctive... because of who it is. *That* triggers something, a lightning-flash of memory, I try to grasp it but it's gone as soon as it comes, flitting back away to vanish among its brethren in the darkness. It makes me dizzy. I feel cold, chilled, alone. My reaction is instinctive. I reach out for warmth.  
  
  
10:21 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
I can sense her uncertainty, radiating out from her in waves, and I squeeze her hand reassuringly. I still can't quite realize this is real. Even the impending battle with Ultimecia couldn't halt the rush of emotion I felt when Quistis placed her hand trustingly in mine. It's the little things that get you, I've heard. I've wanted her for so long yet I still aren't prepared for even so simple an act as holding hands while taking a walk.  
  
Not a walk. A march. A mission.  
  
And she's still upset about something.  
  
"Quistis?" I wait for her to look at me, feet still marching automatically, one-two one-two, years of SeeD training means we're perfectly in step. "What's wrong?" I have to bite my tongue to keep from adding anything I shouldn't. Like a pet name. I mentally slap myself and order me more focused.  
  
She sighs, a little uncomfortably, and instead of answering chooses to ask. "What was your childhood like?"  
  
She sounds wistful; I'm instantly wary. This isn't good. She's not supposed to dwell on things like childhood yet. But who am I to say that? I traveled back to change things. Well, they've changed all right. But until Ultimecia is defeated-- until things resume their natural course-- too much knowledge is still dangerous. Until things resume their natural course... it may be too late. Even before I came back, it may have been too late. I can only try to put things back the way they were. The right way. The wrong way. How many other pasts for history to take?  
  
"I'm an orphan," I begin, feeling my way cautiously through the footpaths of memory. I've solid ground but she's skirting quicksand, looking thus far in vain for the safe path through. "I don't remember my parents. Matron told me they died when I was very young." No details. It's better that way. Less chance of... "I came to Garden when I was twelve. It was just... the thing to two. There were five other kids from the orphanage that went too. Not all of them to Balamb, though." No mention of Ellone. Keep her out of it, even numerically.  
  
Quistis was staring at me. Her look send a chill right through me. Not sadness or pity or even memory, as might be expected. Instead a horrible, dawning suspicion.  
  
"'Matron is in Timber,'" she quoted softly. Flatly.  
  
Oh, Hyne.  
  
"You said 'Matron is in Timber.'"  
  
I've slipped up.  
  
"Why us, I asked you."  
  
She's made the connection.  
  
"Six children you said. Not all went to Balamb Garden, hmmm? But perhaps *four* of them did?"  
  
Awful realization.  
  
"Then a transfer student arrives from Trabia Garden, and suddenly these carefully laid-plans you allude to change."  
  
I tried to protect you from this...  
  
"We don't have an exchange program with Galbadia Garden."  
  
I've failed. As with so many other things in my life, I've failed.  
  
"If we did, would there be a sixth person involved in all this?"  
  
I didn't want this for you. Not yet. Such disillusionment. I wanted to spare you this knowledge. Of what has become of our childhood. Of what we have become. Of what we have lost.  
  
One slip of the tongue.  
  
I was right to be afraid.  
  
  
10:22 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
He closes his eyes, trusting his feet and our linked hands to keep him on the path.  
  
It's all the answer I need.  
  
That's why us.  
  
But if it's such a simple reason, that we were once under the care of a woman who now needs our help in return, then why all the secrecy? Why not just tell us? Why make the mission top secret?  
  
There's something else going on here, there's something you're not telling me, there's something I still don't understand. Something that has to do with my empty memory.  
  
"Why can't I remember anything? Why keep all this hidden?"  
  
It's his turn to sigh, now, and the release of air sounds oddly sad. "I'm sorry, Quisty." The nickname is familiar and foreign at the same time; was I called that, once? "You know too much already. You've forgotten for a reason."  
  
He must know I'm not one to be satisfied with that kind of an answer, especially if he's known me as far back as all that.  
  
If he's known me... that long... then...  
  
Oh, Hyne, help me.  
  
"Why did you do it?"  
  
I can feel him tense beside me, green-eyed gaze shifting warily. I can practically hear him thinking "What now?"  
  
But that's not what I'm getting at. "Act like you did. If it's true... it makes a nasty sort of sense... then why did you behave that way? You fought with Squall, teased Zell, you constantly disrupted my class... I can understand you hated it but..." I stop abruptly, gulping air to hold down a rising tide of betrayal. he *did* hate my class, he'd gone out of his way countless times to tell me how much he despised me. And yet it had felt so good when he kissed me. It felt so good to walk down the road to Balamb with him, holding hands... no. I was right to stop liking him. I was right to distrust him, this arrogant, cocky bastard who expected me to believe him when he fed me this ridiculous story. The fact that I'd done so up till now only galled me more. I snatched my traitorous hand from his and stopped in the middle of the road, irresolute. There was a chance, however slight, that these orders really did come from Cid. If they did, if this woman really did need my help, I should go on for the mission's sake. I *am* a professional. But why shouldn't he have lied about this? It makes a sick kind of sense, I can see it all fitting together despite the gaps in my memory, I know he didn't mean me to make that connection. But he's clever. I don't know what to do, what to believe. I'm cast adrift, bobbing alone on a sea of doubt. Darkness surrounds me, isolates me and I can't see the light.  
  
  
10:23 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
She pulls away from me and I want to cry out, it's all falling apart and I'm losing her even as I stand here. I can feel her fragile trust in my dying, I can see she's walling herself away. Don't, Quistis, you'll only hurt yourself, you can't live alone. Don't shut me out, please, it's not what you think. I won't let this happen. The world isn't prepared for what I can do but it's the only way I have left to reach her and letting her go was never and option. It's about time this change worked in my favor. The world can accommodate this.  
  
That doesn't make it any less dangerous.  
  
I can *feel* Ultimecia's attention being caught as I reach for the last of the powers she'd bequeathed me. They've been fading, out of sync with this time, they don't belong here. But they're not yet completely gone. I touch the remaining pool and guide it, gently, towards Quistis.  
  
Her reaction is immediate. She straightens abruptly, eyes widening, focused inward. I'm trying to hurry, feeling Ultimecia's questing gaze clear from Timber, searching out the source of the power flare I'm generating. A terrible risk. But I can't bear the alternative.  
  
With one final mental *push*, the last pathway is rebuilt. I fling the power away, metaphorically, disassociating myself from it as fast as I can. Just in time. A tense minute later her search passes over me, still frustrated. I take a deep breath of relief and reach for Quistis, forgetting caution in the need to know she's still here with me. I'll make it all right. No matter what.  
  
  
10:24 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
My eyes are wide open but I don't see anything around me. I'm watching home movies in my own head, old memories long buried coming to light, wonderful, intangible. Quezacotl is beating his wings irritably in my mind, complaining of having to build new pathways to get out, but I pay him no mind, too caught up in a vision of what was.  
  
Scenes flicker before my eyes but what I really feel is the emotions, as if they were recorded more clearly by a child's mind. Laughter comes through the most, the clearest; creativity, treasured secrets, fireflies and snacktime and bedtime stories. Happiness. Contentment. Reassurance.  
  
Everything Seifer told me is the truth.  
  
I feel like laughing with the giddiness of it all, and I do, snuggling into Seifer's arms like I sued to on cold winder nights, when we'd sprawl on the lawn and watch the stars come out while listening to Matron's soft clear voice tell stories of faraway lands like Esthar and Shumi Village. It was friendly then. Platonic. Now it's anything but.  
  
He's breathing hard. Somehow he did this for me, gave me this precious gift. History puts everything in focus. Including my emotions.  
  
I feel young, giddy, and in love.  
  
This time it was I who kissed him.  
  
Which event occurred roughly three seconds before the wild T-Rexuar attacked.  
  
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Ooooh, I'm evil. I should probably join the Proud Club of People Who Like Cliffhangers Too Much. But then, I only like inflicting them. I don't like reading them. Regular little hypocrite, aren't I? No cliffhanger next time, I promise, if that helps. And the next chapter will be out... oh, probably Wednesday, assuming you all review me appropriately. If I see over fifty reviews I might be able to have it out tomorrow... wink wink nudge nudge... just go ahead and tap that lilac box down there.  
  
Lyaka ^^ 


	7. 10:25 AM - 10:29 AM

A/N: Well, it's here. I'm feeling just a *slight* dip in my motivation due to lack of reviews... hint hint. Not that I'm begging or anything. Oh, no. But be warned in advance that without a noticable increase in the volume of reviews, the next part may take a bit longer. Seeing as I have finals and all, and unless I'm *really* motivated, my physics grade is probably going to take temporary precedence.  
  
:p C'mon, Saravien, the T-Rexaur fight is just classic. I couldn't exactly leave it out, now could I? If it makes you feel better, I mock myself, the T-Rexaur and several other Seiftis chiches in the next chapter of 'The Politically Correct Audit', which should be out day after tomorrow. Check it out. This goes for everyone... my lack of reviews there is even more depressing. ;_; Feed the poor author's ego! Insane reviews quite welcome, thank you very much ^^  
  
  
---------------  
~Hourglass~  
---------------  
  
  
10:25 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
I never knew it was possible to love someone this much. I've loved her, to know it, for two years, from the first time I walked into her class up through the entire length of the Sorceress War. But I've loved her, without knowing it, for all of my life. And I still never thought it would be as wonderful as this.  
  
I heard the roar a split second before the I actually saw the T-Rexaur.  
  
It roared again and swiped at us with its tail. The beast had approached from Quistis' side of the road and the blow caught her squarely in the back, causing her to cry out involuntarily and stumble into me. I then did something I have never done in my life: I growled. Audibly.   
  
She was off balance so I shifted her weight hastily against my left arm and drew Hyperion with my right. A few quick slashes with the sharp blade and the T-Rexaur stepped back warily, not retreating but exercising caution. I swore softly. We *would* have to get a *smart* monster. I didn't even want to begin to guess how many fights it would have had to survive to acquire that kind of cunning.  
  
Quistis righted herself quickly against my arm and took a long step to the left, giving me room and putting me out of range of her chain whip. She didn't uncoil it immediately, though, first touching her fingers to her forehead in a gesture I've seen thousands of times. Overprotective worries about her being too far away instantly crystallized into something far more serious. I knew what *that* meant.  
  
I slashed again at the T-Rexaur to keep it at bay and lunged left. My hand closed over her wrist, jerking it away before she could complete the movement. She stared at me in shock. "What are you-"  
  
The T-Rexaur struck again, taking advantage of our proximity, cutting her off. I hastily cast Blizzaga, the unfamiliar ice magic tingling unpleasantly in my veins. Ice is more Squall's thing. I do fire and holy. Especially holy.  
  
[Speaking of which, do you plan on summoning me at any point in the near future?] Alexander put in crabbily. He liked a good fight as much as I did and hated being left out. Another reason, no doubt, why we're so compatible.  
  
[Just a sec,] I told him and turned towards Quistis, keeping Hyperion up, sharp edge towards the Rexaur. "Don't summon your GF, okay?"  
  
"Why not?" she yelled back, flinging a Blizzara of her own at the marauding monster.  
  
"GFs destroy memories!" I called, taking a swipe at the T-Rexaur as soon as he stepped close enough. "They take up space in your mind, carve pathways through your thoughts, especially when you summon them. That's why you- ugh- forgot." I hastily dodged a bite aimed at my arm.  
  
"You mean I can't summon him *ever*?" Quistis sounded appalled, snapping her whip at the T-Rexaur, then cursing as a lucky bite from the monster caught her off guard.  
  
I drew a Cura from it and cast it on her. For a wild monster it had quite a stockpile; perhaps that was the secret behind its evident longevity. "You can," I assured her, "just wait for the memories to settle a bit more firmly. Hold on," I added, and slashed Hyperion diagonally before me, summoning Alexander.  
  
[Finally,] the GF grumped good-naturedly.  
  
The world blurred around me as he appeared in my stead. I blacked out entirely for the familiar twenty-second eternity, focusing on keeping my mind ordered in its carefully laid patterns, arranged to give Alexander entry and exit room without damaging my memories or anything else. It was a technique that required patience to master, but once learned maintaining it was unconscious most of the time, unless you were actually summoning. Then it was over, Alexander lodged firmly in his little cleared-off space in my head once again.  
  
The T-Rexaur roared, not noticeably harmed.  
  
Just great.  
  
[Let me,] Alexander said, sounding annoyed. [This will take long enough as it is.]  
  
Well, good thing we left plenty of time.  
  
  
10:27 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
I sighed in relief as the T-Rexaur finally fell to the ground and disintegrated. Normally even a smart, wild one wouldn't be much of a threat, but being unable to summon Quezacotl left me feeling vulnerable in ways I didn't like.  
  
I glanced over to Seifer as I recoiled my whip automatically. He was straightening slowly from a fighting stance, looking tired. I felt a stab of compassion for my former student. Summoning a GF repeatedly, as he'd just done, was extremely draining. I moved over to him, unable to repress a fond smile. Even when he was young, he'd be like that. Always doing all the work. Not because he wanted the spotlight, not because he enjoyed being tired and drained. It's just that protective instinct of his. He's always had it. It's one of his- surprisingly many, I am discovering- endearing traits.  
  
I steady him, reaching for a Cure, but he catches my hand midway through the casting gesture in a grip surprisingly strong. "Don't waste it," he says, straightening away from me. "It won't help fatigue. I'm not that tired anyway. I've... been building up my resistance and compatibility."  
  
I nod, glancing down the road automatically for other stray monsters. He's clearly been training a good deal since his last evaluation. I wish I could have seen him in action on the field test. Maybe.... maybe...  
  
"Hey." His grip on my wrist is gentle now. Somehow he knows what I'm thinking; I can see it in his eyes, the understanding tinged with sadness, the overriding determination. "Next time for sure. Okay?"  
  
I smile. "Okay." I believe in him. I believe he means it. I believe he'll make it in the end. He's too bright a star to burn out. Not him. Never him. He'd never give up.  
  
He smiles back at me. Confidence rises between us, an ability to handle any challenges thrown our way. We set off again, joined hands swinging idly between us. There's something else I want to know from him, and I phrase my words carefully. There's a fine art to getting information- truthful information- out of Seifer. I used to know it quite well. I'm rusty now but practice makes perfect.  
  
"So, Seifer," I bring up casually as we continue on, one-two one-two in step. "Thanks again for restoring my memories. Who would've thought GFs would damage them, ne?" Leaving unspoken the question of how *he* knew, I went right for the big guns. Inwardly I wore a wicked grin; from my outward tone butter wouldn't melt in my mouth. "Just how *did* you bring them back, anyway?"  
  
  
10:28 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
Oooh boy. She *would* have to ask about that one.  
  
[Looks like she's calling you on it sooner rather than later.]  
  
And I *would* have to get a GF with a sense of humor.  
  
Okay, Almasy, think fast.  
  
Ummm... "Magic." Oh, real smooth there. I sound like a three-year-old. Except- now we know that magic is real. So maybe I can do something with this after all. Think, think... a-hah! "You've heard of a Forget spell, right?" Please say yes, please say yes... she nods! Give the girl a prize! I'm not sunk yet. "Well, what a GF does is similar to that," I continue, trying to keep my explanation- lie- as simple as possible. The last thing I need is to trip over my tongue on this one. Sorceress powers leads to Sorceress' Knight, leads to Time Compression, leads to... no, I did NOT want to solve *that* temporal equation. "So, I just hit you with an extra-powerful triple Esuna." Please let this work...  
  
  
10:29 AM  
(She said)  
  
I mull this over, fighting my instinct to dismiss the explanation outright just because it's Seifer. Instead I search for flaws. The obvious one, of course, is "Why didn't this happen when I've had Esunas cast on me before?"  
  
He's prepared for this question, give him credit for that. "Two reasons," he says without hesitation. "One is that this Esuna was stronger than most, there were three of them, and frankly I'm one of the best casters in Garden." Hardly modest, but true; when he was casting a moment ago his improvement was clear. "Two, what a GF does is tricky. To dispel the effects you have to be in the right frame of mind- you have to *know* you've lost something."  
  
I don't quite know how to react to this. It *seems* plausible, certainly, it all hangs together and there's no contradictions. But I can't seem to shake the niggling feeling that he's not telling me the complete truth.  
  
I look hard at him, trying to divine what his underlying motives could be. I see sincerity, reliability... and underneath the overt emotions, a hint of pleading. Hoping. He wants me to accept this. Not just to save his own skin. There's a deeper reason behind his desire for me to believe him. What? Why? I cast my thoughts back, try to recall anything that might have caused this. I find nothing. I'm worried. Whatever he's kept back... he's always been the protective type, but he's not stupid, he knows I can take care of myself. What could be so... so bad? That he'd never want me to know?  
  
But that's not even the real question, is it? The real question here is whether or not I trust him enough to make that decision for me. Whether or not I trust him to know, because I do not, that this must be kept secret. It's a test of faith. And I've already decided that question.   
  
So, disbelieving of his answer, but with complete faith in the man behind it, I let the issue go. And I smile up at him, showing him my confidence.  
  
He looks surprised for a moment; then his face softens. I feel warm all over, basking in the glow of the sun. This is all so new to me. With the huge amount of information thrown at me over the past half hour I should feel overwhelmed, lost, confused. But instead I feel strong, empowered. Lighter than air. Grounded by his arm around my waist.  
  
We entered Balamb that way.  
  
I was smiling.  
  
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More action, less introspection. I'm not generally very good at action, especially turn-based, so let me know how I can improve. Next chapter: lots more introspection! Wahoo! *happy dance*  
  
Review me, or the evil mutant killer daisy will eat your soul!  
  
(stolen from a poster in my history classroom. the saddest part is, my teacher wrote it. is there a law saying all history teachers have to be wacko?)  
  
Lyaka ^^ 


	8. 10:30 AM - 10:34 AM

Woohoo! FF.net lives! It breathes! It updates! :)  
  
This part features a poem, called "Urban Angel", not written my me but by my friend, Mackenzie Kimmel. I had read it recently before writing this and it unconsciously inspired me. After reading them again together I realized how they could fit together. I didn't purposely write this to match, but it worked out rather well, and it's an awesome poem, so I included it. Hope you like. (Kenzie, don't kill me *hugs* :) Any comments on it will be dutifully passed along.  
  
Show you care, send a bear... and a review. ^^  
  
  
---------------  
~Hourglass~  
---------------  
  
  
10:30 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
Welcome to Balamb, population 317 humans and one angel (visiting).  
  
At first neither of us says anything. There's sort of a hush, even in the town. Balamb is always a sleepy little seaside town, nothing much happening even during the day, and it's like a blanket has settled comfortably over us, a blanket of contentment and relaxation, wrapping us up in each other. I knew we could get along if only we could overcome our instinctive reaction to bicker. The peace that this town is awash in laps over us, smoothing down rough edges, letting us exist smoothly.  
  
We're too early for the train, but I don't mind; for these few minutes all sense of urgency is gone. I know it's artificial, I know it will wear off, but I want to enjoy it while it's here. Hyne knows peace will be in rare enough supply soon enough.  
  
In the meanwhile we've time to spare, it seems, for the first time in too long, for the last time in even longer. We wander around aimlessly, meandering down the cobblestone streets. I know where we'll end up, though. If you're not making for the train station Balamb is like a one-way street: there's only one place to end up. One destination. The pier.  
  
Wooden boards rattle beneath our feet. Each clatter brings back a silver-edged memory all its own: Raijin fishing, Fujin kicking him off the pier, pausing in the shadow of Garden to watch with longing eyes and make the first promise to myself that somehow I'll make right what I've ruined. This isn't FH but for a moment I can't tell the difference. The towns may be different but the piers might as well be twins, built from the same model, unaltered as yet by the ravages of the Sorceress War. For a breathless moment I can't tell the difference. Vertigo touches me as the sky seems to swirl with all its different blues. For a second I'm back in FH, Raijin's laughter and Fujin's lingering in my ears. Nothing's changed, I've accomplished nothing but destruction. The crushing weight of failure falls on me again.  
  
Then Quistis shifts slightly against my arm and the difference comes forcibly home to me. I feel almost dizzy with the sudden weightlessness of knowing that that future can still be prevented. That scene exists now only in my memory, and for all its poignancy I'll do anything to keep it that way. It has crossed from reality to fantasy. Erased from existence. Now is all the memory I will have.  
  
Will it be worth it?  
  
It's up to me to do it the right way, this time.  
  
It's funny. The crushing weight of failure wasn't heavier to carry than this.  
  
  
10:31 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
  
My brain is fuzzing out; it's like the feeling I get when I stay up all night. By morning I'm zoned out, just feeling, listening, nothing important going on upstairs. Thoughts and memories glide lazily through my mind, wandering the halls of my past, trying to come to terms with that which can never be forgotten.  
  
The sun is glinting off the waters of the bay, turning them colors Hyne never intended. Gold, crimson and aquamarine crest with the waves, giving way to the deeper, purer colors of midnight blue, muted silver, forest green, swirling beneath it, keeping their secrets. Like he is. Secrets. The sea has always drawn me. But not enough to break the pull of SeeD. The desire to become something more.  
  
  
/twisted aluminum foil halo  
/tye-dye tattered wings  
/and a black lace slip  
/that hangs limply on your hips  
/caught on the curve of your swollen lips  
  
  
I felt that I wasn't worth anything by myself. It wasn't that anyone had said that to me, or made me feel that way. I made me feel that way. Somewhere between remembrance and forgetting the idea became entrenched in my mind, the belief that only by overachieving could I have value. All the negative emotions I harbored, loss, depression, confusion, I could make them all go away if I only tried harder, got better. Then came the other emotions. The positive emotions. Desire, crushes, love. They threatened to shatter the idea of my own unworthiness to which I had clung for so long. And rather than let that idea go, I adapted the new emotions to fit. I believed that in order to deserve them, I had to measure up. I convinced myself that no man would want me unless I was the best.  
  
  
/eyes the same hollow hue of a highschool pool  
/surrounded in a mist of black eyeliner  
/smudged heavy like a fresh bruise  
  
  
I tried so hard. I was practically the poster child for Garden. When that didn't work I believed I wasn't feminine enough. The only time I ever really wore makeup was when I was trying to break through to Squall. Hells, I tried it all. I wanted him to notice me. I wanted him to realize. On some level, I think I wanted him to remember.  
  
I may have been using him but part of me really did love him.  
  
  
/calling out "hello" and "stay"  
/you know girl, he left anyway  
  
  
It did hurt when he didn't love me back. It may only be a small piece of my heart but it was like a blow when I realized that he would only ever be my younger brother. At that time I didn't know I could even have that. I thought I'd lost him completely. Why pretend? I'd believed I loved him for- Hyne, nearly six years. And the fact that part of the affection really was for him only made it ache worse. That can't be gotten over so quickly. I don't know, now, what drastic things I might have done. When I woke up this morning I was in pieces, and the adhesive I'd been using ever since my arrival at Garden had finally lost its staying power. I would have tried anything to make it go away. Alcohol had already failed. Who can know, now, what might have come next?  
  
  
/needle tracks like footprints in the snow  
/white skin pulled around, like a loose blanket  
/I keep expecting you to take off  
  
  
I wanted to shed the mask I'm wearing but that didn't mean a thing. I've wanted to shed it since the day I first put it on. My will wasn't enough. I needed help. I never had it. I've been lost all my life. I'm not the only one, only a fool believes themselves alone in their troubles. Being an orphan may have given me a head start on loneliness but the children who come to SeeD are not normal or healthy emotionally. Becoming a trained killer is the last choice, the last chance, of those who are unwanted elsewhere. What parent would want their child to be what we are? We are proud, we are the best, but in becoming so we lost something vital of ourselves. The first time you kill you cross a line that can never be re-crossed.  
  
I wanted to be different, I wanted to be special, and when I got what I wanted I was even more miserable that I had been before. I didn't understand why this was so, didn't understand how to change it. I could only cling more tightly to the false images around me. Being an Instructor, being the youngest SeeD, being respected, these things took on a meaning to me far above and beyond what they should. They defined me. They were the only things about me I believed could offer any worth at all.  
  
  
/angel, always proud of your tie-dye tattered wings  
/And your broken halo, can't you tell  
/it's only aluminum foil after all  
  
  
I woke up this morning desperate and alone. I've been upside down so many times these past few days that I might as well be turning cartwheels, flipping carelessly through time. I didn't care. At that point I would have done anything, recklessly, regardlessly. This is the result. I'm standing on Balamb's pier, AWOL from Garden, off to go rescue a mother I never knew I had, with a man I never knew I loved. My greatest failure. My greatest success. He has in him what I never did. More than the ability. More than the power. Belief in himself. Belief in his dreams. Confidence.  
  
  
/baby don't you know  
/I can build you a new one  
  
  
I believe in him more strongly than I ever did in Squall. And that is what convinces me that this is reality. I always wanted to help Squall. I want Seifer to help me. I believe he can give me that confidence. I believe he can make me believe. Not just in others. But in myself. And I need that so badly. It can make all the difference in myself. In my future.  
  
  
  
10:33 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
  
The whistle of a train penetrates the mental fog we seem to have become wrapped in. My head tells me it's only the 1034 to Deling City but my body's reaction is pure instinct, adrenaline flooding my system. As if I'm not on enough of a high already. The peaceful interval is broken; I can feel each minute pressing on me with sharp-edged clarity, Hyne's hourglass slipping inexorably onwards, each grain of sand another weight we race to shoulder before the load becomes too heavy and we collapse, or the hourglass breaks, shards of glass everywhere reflecting all the possible futures in an instant, all of this contained in the sunlight reflecting off the single piece of green bottle glass newly broken on the shore.  
  
I make myself sit down, trying to breathe. The urge to start running is overpowering. Not that it would help. If I thought running, right now, all the way to Timber, would get me there faster, I would do it in a second. This lack of movement tears at me, turning me ragged around the edges with pent-up energy and fear. Timing is everything. Arrival. And Squall has the drop on me. He's already in Timber. So many things could go wrong; I can't stop cataloging them in my head. The train could be slow. There could be too many other passengers or citizens, slowing us down. There will be guards at the comm tower; fighting them may take longer than it did last time. Deling may be in a different place. Once you change something it's like you've set off a chain reaction, dominoes clattering on each other, impersonally, uncaring of what they destroy in their path. An avalanche, started by something so little as dust sliding down the mountain, impossible to head off once it begins to descend. If we're late, if something goes wrong, if I'm not in the comm tower on time...  
  
Hyne, please let me be in time.  
  
Don't let my knowledge be in vain.  
  
I saw into Ultimecia's mind at the end. The majority of the time I served her I truly didn't know it wasn't Matron. She wanted it that way, she twisted my mind around, but I still should have picked up on the clues. If I had, would I have been able to break free?  
  
That is one theory that we shall never have to test. I, at least, will not be taken twice. But if she can't get me- if I'm not there first-- she will take him. She will. And he will not know enough to fight.  
  
I saw Ultimecia's mind. I saw the future from whence she came. I saw the history she learned. I saw the Sorceress War from the perspective of the future. I saw the way things should have been. If I had not fallen to her. If events had taken their natural course. She wanted to change things so that she would not fall. So she came back earlier. Farther into the past. To change things earlier. To bring about the downfall of those who would destroy her.  
  
Possessing Matron was no random act of chance. She knew full well who Edea Kramer was. Knew for whom she cared in her orphanage. She knew who *we* were. And she drove our insecurities, unconsciously, subtly, Matron probably never realized she was doing it. She knew who would defeat her. She was determined to stop it. To keep Squall and I from ever working together.  
  
Hyne help us all, it worked. It worked.  
  
She drove us to become rivals instead of brothers. To fight against each other instead of with each other. To scar each other, physically and emotionally, with hatred. And then, to make doubly sure that we would never, ever unite forces to defeat her, she took one of us as her knight.  
  
It was my bad luck, that day in the Timber comm tower, that I was first on the scene.  
  
She didn't care which of us she took.  
  
It didn't matter in the end, for her defeat. She hadn't counted on Rinoa. Hadn't realized that her romance with Squall played just as vital a part in her defeat. And so she fell anyway. But along the way she accomplished her original intent: to ruin us, as a group, as a team, to destroy our solidarity and any chance we had of working together.  
  
And now, not knowing that she is already doomed, that her plan is flawed at the core, she will try it, again, Hyne only knows how often this mobius loop in time has played itself out, only one edge, only one ending, leading only to repetition. To try, and fail, and try again, unknowing of your own fated failure. Snarling time and fate in its loops. Perhaps my return here, to prevent it, was less of an accident than I think. Perhaps it was less of my own design. Perhaps Hyne herself has tired of this farce. I don't care. If it works, if I can free us of this binding, I don't care who was behind it in the end.  
  
But in order to do anything, I have to get there first. If I'm too late, because of these changes, Squall will become her knight in my stead. There will be no team. There will be no Rinoa. There will be nothing left to use against her.  
  
And then Ultimecia very well may win.  
  
  
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Heh heh.  
  
Oooh, plot twist. Reason for urgency. Much fun. ^^v  
  
*does a little review dance*  
  
The button hasn't moved since the last time you clicked it! Go ahead, it doesn't bite! 


	9. 10:35 AM - 10:39 AM

Hey! I'm alive! *ducks flying objects* Sorry this update took so long... even I'm mad at me ;_;. Between attending Shoujocon on Saturday (and spending way too much money, but hey, isn't that what conventions are for? ;) and vacationing down at Wildwood (the beach... gotta work on my tan ;) I had no time to write OR post. But I'm here now, so all is forgiven, right? Right? *brandishes evil mutant daisy weedkiller* Thought so. ^^ And this part is nice and long, too.  
  
  
Reviews, reviews, reviews! Or else I'll torture you even more! Mwahahaha...  
  
  
---------------  
~Hourglass~  
---------------  
  
  
  
10:35 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
The last, piercing whistle of the departing train hangs a moment longer in the air before fading away to the soft chirp of a Thrustaevis. I stretch languidly, content to leave the planning to another for a change. I'm always the one in charge- it's nice to be able to lean on someone else's strength.  
  
I can feel the tension in his body as I rest against him. He's worried about something. I should react to that, I should be worried too, but only the ever-present sense of urgency reminds me that I'm heading into a combat situation. I can't seem to focus on the details; it's like the whole situation is blurred- hidden behind clinging fog, resting at the bottom of a shallow pool, distorted, only the outline clear.  
  
But then, why shouldn't it be that way? Battles are always chaotic. It's the first thing they tell you in Basic Strategy and they keep drumming it into you all the way thought AP BatStrat. It's a cliché but that doesn't make it any less true. The best-laid plans in the world fall apart the instant the first shot is fired. Every side is going to make mistakes, they tell you. The side that makes the least mistakes, that thinks best on their feet, that does the best job of exploiting the other's mistakes, that side is usually the victor. A good Strategos is a flexible Strategos.  
  
That was one of the things Headmaster Cid said. I wasn't flexible enough.  
  
He sighs, long, drawn-out, consciously letting something go. Fear, hatred, passion, all are useless in battle. It was a lesson Seifer could never seem to learn. Always so hotheaded, impulsive, reckless. Looking at him now, studying the calm, planned, hard lines of his face, I think perhaps he finally has. For the first time before a battle I see him using his head and not his emotions.  
  
A cold, sharp glint in his eyes that brings Squall involuntarily to mind.  
  
A slow, satisfied smile that curves slowly across my lips.  
  
An image of fire and ice streaking past my mind's eye, so fast it leaves only an afterimage, the two bleeding into each other, white-cold and red-hot tempering each other in the blackness of nothing.  
  
It's happening. It took six years, two scars, memory loss and the brainwashing of our Matron to bring it about, but it's finally happening.  
  
The gang is reuniting.  
  
The group is working _together_.  
  
I have a sudden feeling of invincibility.  
  
The smile doesn't fade.  
  
It feels good.  
  
  
10:36 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
My breath escapes invisibly into the hazy air. I stare idly at the water, turned slightly murky by the last remnants of morning fog the sun has yet to burn off, and focus as best as I can on their relative calmness. It's never been easy for me. I've always been impulsive, hotheaded, passionate... the list goes on. I never saw a problem with it, never heeded teacher's warnings, never saw the need to change until one day, in the heat of the moment, I broke out of Garden, ran to Timber, and there, in the sudden chill atmosphere of the TV station, fell before Ultimecia. Unjunctioned, unaware and unprepared, I succumbed to her promises and was unmade.  
  
Never again, I swore. Because of that, I will never be worthy of the angel by my side; but I will be as worthy as I can.  
  
Speaking of whom... I glance at her belt, where her old chain whip hangs neatly coiled. As an Instructor it was all she needed, and as a blue mage her weapon need be nothing stellar. She was as good a fighter physically as any SeeD, I understood, but in the upcoming battles she would need every advantage she could get. I remember fighting her in Galbadia Garden, when she still wielded this whip; I remember countering the blows she dealt with Save the Queen on Lunatic Pandora. Only during the latter fight had she done me any injury.  
  
I take a moment more to stare at the ocean and clear my thoughts. Then I turn to her. "Ne, Quisty, want to take a stroll into town? We should stop by the potion store and the junk shop's not a bad idea either."  
  
She peers up at me, eyes alight with reflected sun, as if she's staring into my soul. It frightens me, what she may see, what she may think. Even discarding Ultimecia, I am not a good man. I was born to be a mercenary, and not all of my past actions have been moral or right. It scares me, that I might taint her, pull her down from her place in heaven into the fire reserved for me. My head tells me that she too is a mercenary, has been a full SeeD for three years; that, despite being an Instructor, she has gone on missions; that some of those missions were more concerned with the color of our employer's gil than the moral high ground. But my heart can't forget the way her eyes looked at five, wide and happy and full of trust; can't forget her lilting laughter at each new discovery in a rich and vibrant world. I can't forget the innocence she once possessed, or stop my jealous guardianship over whatever shreds remain after all the time and blood and death.  
  
I don't want her to become what I did. Lonely, and bitter, and disillusioned.  
  
"Um..." her tentative whisper escapes into the sea breeze, stripped of sound before it has gone two paces from her lips. "I, well..." her voice dies.  
  
I squeeze her waist, trying to reassure her, but I refrain from putting words in her mouth. Whatever she says has to be hers alone.  
  
"I wanted to ask you," she finally managed to get out. "Se..." she stared at me for a second, then took a deep breath and asked point-blank "Why me?"  
  
That took me aback. Wait a second, I thought we'd been through this already...  
  
Some of the sudden blankness must have shown on my face, because she was already waving a hand dismissively, her powers of articulation apparently recovering. "Not that," she said impatiently. "I mean- Timber- Matron- I get all that, that's not it. I mean... well... you." Her voice seemed to be losing its coherency again. "Why- you- me- you know?"  
  
Oh... I stared out at the ocean. "D'you remember, when we were kids-" I shrugged, a little embarrassed. "To be honest, it started out as kind of a joke," I admitted. "Irvine was always chasing Selphie, and you couldn't pry Squall away from Ellone with a flamethrower and a three-foot girder. I could never stand being left behind, and you were the only remaining girl."  
  
"Then how come I didn't know?" she queried. "I would have thought you'd make it obvious. Squall and Irvy certainly did."  
  
"They did," I agreed. "And I meant to. But it didn't quite work out the way I planned. Actually, once I really started looking at you- once I stopped thinking of you as Bossy Quisty and tried to figure out what I liked about you- well, not only did decide you weren't so bad after all, I thought you were just about the coolest thing since gunblade oil." I could feel my cheeks heating with the admission. "We were already seven or eight by then- that's old enough... it was just a crush, really. You don't find true love as an insecure eight-year-old bully. I thought if I told anyone they'd only laugh at me, or ridicule me. Then someone offered to adopt you.  
  
"Frankly I wasn't sure whether to be upset or ecstatic. After all, you were supposed to make me feel less vulnerable, not more, but at the same time it hurt. It was right after that that Ellie left again. Squall and I ended up developing two completely different attitudes to cover two identical sets of conflicting emotions. It was really inevitable that we begin to fight. And when I realized, one day, that when I was fighting I had managed to completely forget you were even alive- it became addicting. The adrenaline rush, the tunnel vision, even the blood. I couldn't understand why I couldn't get you out of my head, but I couldn't stop trying.  
  
"I knew what the GFs would do to me, Quistis. I didn't care. When I took my first junction all I remember feeling is this overwhelming sense of relief. I just couldn't stand to remember anything. It got to be so all-consuming that I could only truly feel whole in the heat of battle. Then I had no past, and the present was entirely devoted to ensuring I had a future.  
  
"When I walked into Advanced GFs on the first day of class, I didn't recognize you. You should have meant nothing to me. But you did. More than a teenage-male reaction of 'Oh, you're hot'. Something else entirely. It took me a while to realize because I was fighting it every step of the way. I had spent a decade trying to forget you. I thought I'd never see you again." I tighten my hold around her, anchoring myself to her physical reality. "It was like a miracle." A miracle that I got a second chance. A miracle that you're really here, with me, your emotions munificent instead of murderous.  
  
"I understand." Her eyes are soft and warm. They smile at me.  
  
I used to believe there was no such things as miracles.  
  
She shifts against me, moving to rise, and I realize I've lost myself in her eyes. Quistis smiles gently, moves her arm to brush mine, twines our fingers together. "Come on," she says. "Let's go."  
  
Hand in hand, we move up the cobblestone road to our future.  
  
  
  
10:38 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
The door of the potion shop /ding!/s as I push it open. The man behind the counter stands, a well-worn look of welcome creasing his face. "Come in," he greets amiably. "How may I help you today?"  
  
I offer him a slight nod and bend to check the remedies rack. Last week's demonstration in class was Doomtrain, and I'd used up a lot of anitdotes and eyedrops curing his bad status effects.  
  
Seifer, on the other hand, leans idly against the counter and speaks directly to the clerk. Flashing the potions rack a deliberately dismissive glance, he informs the man, "I'd like to see your range of second-level supplies."  
  
I straighten from my crouch, an elixir dangling forgotten from my fingers. I try not to make it obvious that I'm staring in surprise and confusion. The clerk doesn't attempt to conceal it. "Sir, I'm afraid that what you see-"  
  
"Really," Seifer cut him off. He was still relaxed, giving the shopkeeper a friendly look. "That's odd. I was *sure* Zell said I could get them here..."  
  
The shopkeeper's entire demeanor changed, going from cordial neutrality to merry camaraderie. "You're friends of Zell's?"  
  
Seifer raised an eyebrow. "As a matter of fact, we grew up together."  
  
The other man beamed effusively. "Well, and why didn't you say so?" he said expansively, a slight Galbadian drawl tingeing his tone with warmth. "In that case, take a look." He thumbed a button out of sight. The potions case, mounted on the far wall, swivelled around abruptly, revealing /another/ shelf laden with second-level restorative draughts.  
  
It took me a second to overcome my first reaction, which was to gape in shock. Once I did, I shot both the formerly hidden case and the newly revealed Potions Master a deeply suspicious glance. The higher-level potions wouldn't be much in demand among civilians in a small town like Balamb. They didn't generally encounter the type of monsters who could inflict that kind of damage, and if they did magic was the preferred healing agent. These type of potions were intended for heavy-duty use while under a magic-dampening field. The man probably had criminal connections. And would it kill him to wash his hair once in a while? I shake my head slightly in disgust, but join Seifer by the rack.  
  
"What do you think?" he slips an arm around my waist. "Hi-Potions+, Remedies+ or some of each?"  
  
I do my best to quell a sudden lightheadedness that I attributed to the slightly thinner air of Balamb. "Some of each, definitely." I hoped that had been a rhetorical question. Or else he *really* hadn't been paying attention in class.  
  
"Right." He winked at me and snagged several vials from the shelf. Belatedly I replaced the weaker elixir and watched Seifer pay, wondering what had triggered his playful mood. Not that I really had to ask. It was a cover for something, some emotion, some pre-battle condition. I traditionally reacted by becoming more uptight, he by wisecracking incessantly.  
  
"C'mon," he beckoned me, handing over half the vials as we left the store. "Next stop, junk shop."  
  
  
10:39 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
As we make tracks through Balamb I study Quistis carefully, mentally cataloguing her supply of spells and items. What I see isn't promising. I'd known they started out underequipped, but this was ridiculous! What good would a few Thunder spells do against a sorceress? How could a half-dozen Potions even begin to heal the damage she inflicts? And not a single protective spell. No Shells or Reflects, nothing to counter the magic at her command. And if they somehow manage to get her *really* mad, and she starts flinging Death spells- forget it. The very thought makes me shiver involuntarily and draw her closer. No Life spells either, only a few Phoenix Downs, and with those if you don't get to the victim quickly- not like Ultimecia would give them time, get her mad and she just blasts you, three KOs later and there's no one left to bring you back...  
  
Don't think about it.  
  
Instead I rifle quickly through my mental inventory. I haven't used any of the Death spells I took from my old stockpile, and thank Hyne I decided to be cautious and bring them. Give her those- can Quezacotl even junction to Elem-D?- maybe find a Pet Shop- some Lifes, thirty or so Curagas, a dozen Regens and all the protective magic I can spare... good think I taught Alexander Cover...  
  
[Overprotective, aren't we?] he quipped. [She survived /last/ time...]  
  
[/Last/ time she wasn't /in/ the first battle,] I snapped back. [Squall was, and if Ultimecia wasn't pissed off enough she couldn't aim straight, he'd be dead! Even so he was damn lucky I had enough Full-Lifes and Curagas to patch him up! They're completely unprepared- first-level magic, nothing protective, not enough curative magic to heal a Grat and their junctions are a joke! I won't let Ultimecia slaughter her because she hasn't got enough Reflects!]  
  
[Calm down,] Alexander advised dispassionately. [You are much more prepared this time. Nothing will happen to your woman. If you worry too much, she will only become suspicious and less likely to listen.] He gave the mental equivalent of a decisive nod. [Now pay attention. You've arrived.]  
  
I turn my gaze outward with a start, realizing that, yes, it is indeed the tooled wooden sign of a scrap/remodel shop swinging in the breeze before me. Quistis is peering up questioningly; how long was I standing here worrying? Instantly I manufacture a reassuring smile and put it on. Alexander has the right of it. Keeping my emotions firmly in check, I pull the door open and usher her inside.  
  
The cool, darkened interior of the shop is calming. I take a deep breath, separating from the saturated air the familiar scents of oil, grease, tallow and molten metal. I've been in a hundred such shops through my life, collecting the parts which ultimately became Hyperion. I pat the weapon fondly, tracing a fingertip over one of the screws holding the handle. I had found that on the beach when I was five, one of the few childhood memories that never left me. It was the item that had started me on the collection, that and a tattered old copy of Weapons Monthly that had described the rare and difficult weapon called a gunblade.  
  
"Welcome! Who needs to remodel?"  
  
The inquiry of the Weapons Master recalls me to the present, and I motion for Quistis to lay her weapon on the table. To his credit, the shopkeeper doesn't even blink as she does, but he can't resist flicking her a look that quite plainly says [You're a SeeD and you're walking around with *this*?] Then he recalls his professionalism and hauls out a stack of upgrade lists, slapping them on the counter with an audible /thump/.  
  
Quisty starts flipping through Slaying Tail parts lists but I arrow straight for Save the Queen. Malboro Tentacles, Sharp Spikes, Energy Crystals... okay. I start digging through my items pouch. Thankfully it was in the pocket of my trenchcoat right before I jumped times. As they hit the table, both Quisty and the shopkeeper stop what they're doing to watch as I sort through rare items, carelessly shoving aside Hypno Crowns and Holy Wars to dig out the required parts. I finished my impromptu show by pulling out the remodel cost of 800 gil. Galbadia was a very prosperous nation, and I don't feel guilty using this money because, technically, it was never looted. One, two... aaaand... smirk! Right on cue. I've always had a flair for the dramatic, if I do say so myself, and I feel better already. Quistis could sweep the floor with her jaw and the shopkeeper was regarding me with a look of deep respect.  
  
"Seifer," Quistis asked disbelievingly as the remodeler snatched up her old whip and the new parts and scurried away, "Where did you *get* all that stuff?"  
  
Winning bad-boy smile. "Internet?"  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Some humor, some introspection... I rather like the mix.  
  
On a slightly less happy note, I'm noticing that I have less writing time now that it's summer. I used to do most of this in school (for those who have never tried writing during History or Math class, I definitely recomend it. Excellent for introspection.) Plus I have six summer reading books, AP European History homework, and seven college essays to write, making Lyaka a swamped lil' author. ^^;;; The point of this litany of grievances is that posts may be a little farther apart until school starts up again, at which point I will again be free to goof off all I like. ^^v  
  
Of course, lots and lots of reviews have been known to change my mind... just a thought. (I'm not hinting anything... no, really!)  
  
Lyaka ^^ 


	10. 10:40 AM - 10:44 AM

I'm baaaaaack! *watches as readers run for cover* No thanks to the few reviews I got ;_; [sad lil' author] My goal is to reach 100 for this fic (it's a nice three-digit number! :) and at this rate we're not going to make it *sobs* Though the reviews I did get made me blush wildly *^^* now we just need quantity, not quality ^^v  
  
---------------  
~Hourglass~  
---------------  
  
  
  
10:40 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
I can't stop running my fingers over the sleek, gleaming surface of the new whip hanging deadly at my side. It even looks different than anything around it, luminescent and sharp and superior.  
  
"Thank you." The words are small, seemingly meaningless in perspective, but I see the soft glow in his eyes and know they mean something to him. "So much."  
  
His gaze dwells upon it, then on me, for long moments. "You'll need it," he says roughly, as if trying to excuse his actions, his attachments. "I wish to Hyne you didn't."  
  
His words set off trains of thoughts derailed before they reach a solution. It's the way he says it that makes the largest impression upon me. There's no mockery in his tone anymore, no ego, no animosity. Nothing to relieve the stark factuality of his words. Somewhere along the line he'd stopped thinking about "if things go wrong" and started planning for "when things go wrong". His relentless preparation for calamity had started to impress on me a similar conviction that we were driving hell-bent for disaster. No escape, no choice, nothing for it but to keep going, full speed ahead, damn the torpedoes and the consequences.  
  
Again me hand brushes the weapon on my hip. Its statistics are amazing, far beyond my current ability to use to the fullest/ What kind of destruction were we headed for, if I am expected to wield it with impunity?  
  
"Here," Seifer says, pulling me into a small niche between stores. "Stop a moment, Quisty. We've got to do something about your junctions."  
  
"My junctions?" Is something wrong with them? I check hastily, but nothing appears to be out of order.  
  
"Yeah..." Seifer seems worried, so I reach up to my left shoulder and undo the clasp that holds my long sleeve onto my fitted gear. It slides down easily, revealing my junction plate.  
  
In the right light, you could see it. It looked as if someone had inlaid mother-of-pearl on my skin, done naturally, like it belonged there, an oddity of birth that could glint in all colors and none. Mostly it stayed icy white. A testament to neutrality. Equal opportunity destruction. A line of type, two larger symbols, another line of smaller symbols. The top line was words: [standard SeeD-issue junction, GF/magic]. Then below it, sharing space, were the SeeD symbol, looking strange in only one color, to the left of the universal symbol for junctioning. Then, below it, by affiliations.   
  
/Thunder,/ the first symbol meant. My GF/elemental affiliation. Three days of tests they had run on me, physical, mental, sociological, to determine which best suited me. With which I was most compatible. Some people had walked out of there with two or more on their charts. But I had only had one. They told me that it happened occasionally that someone's affiliation with one element was so strong that it overwhelmed all other compatibilities. They reassured me that I could become good enough with one element to compete evenly with people who possessed two junctions but were less skilled in each. A blank space rests below it, where elemental defense will go. Every time I look at the blank slate it makes me nervous, reminding me that I am unprepared to handle it. It is my weakness that I must overcome.  
  
Next to it, my status affiliations. The biohazard symbol is first, indicating that I'm dangerous with all types of stat-altering magic. That, they explained, is a result of being a blue mage. I don't have to sacrifice skill with sleep to cast deadly poisons. Then three symbols beneath designating my status defense. Most people only have one; again, the blue mage comes into play. Death, sleep, confuse.  
  
His fingers trace lightly over the symbol for death, and I shiver beneath his touch, not only for the feather-light brush but the odd glint in his eyes. Is that what I am? Is that what I am fated to become? Like the weapon by my side, sleek and dangerous; Death, swift and unyielding.  
  
I gasp softly with the shock as he transfers spells to me. In the rush of adrenaline I forget even to breathe as the symbol flares beneath his fingers, shining shadowed, obsidian inlaid with mother-of-pearl. I see the threads of silver vanish completely as my defensive junction climbs steadily until it reaches maximum and I can hold no more.  
  
The connection breaks, leaving me empty outside but overflowing within. The spells fill me, wrapping themselves around me, creating a protective filament against themselves. I can't even cast them yet with a decent rate of success but I am immunized against death spells.  
  
Then his fingers slide to the left, the blank spot on my junctions. He stares at it for a few minutes, then looks up into my eyes. "I never knew," he says simply, and I catch in his voice the edge of a plea for forgiveness. For what, I do not know, but that never mattered. I know he's hurting, I know he did something he regrets, I know he hurt me and didn't know why.  
  
Then the rush hits me again, harder this time, until the exhilaration borders on pain and I'm so wrapped up in both that it doesn't make a difference. I dimly feel his fingers moving over my skin, it's as if they've turned to razors, sharp-edged and cutting into my fragile epidermis. A downward stroke and my blood boils in my veins; a sideways slice and lightning cracks in my head, causing even Quezacotl to cry out in protest. Ice freezes my heart; the glow of righteousness overwhelms my conscience; I stagger, poisoned, then can only stare as the world freezes around me, even the dripping of the spigot by the house's garden slowed so that a single drop of water falls forever. Vitality charges my body, and suddenly everything is rushing by; a single breath is lost in an instant, an aeon vanishing before I blink an eye. Something burns within me, like a thousand needles piercing my soul, something ancient and powerful and forbidden. Then, with a mind-numbing crash, I fall back into reality and cling, gasping desperately for breath, to Seifer.  
  
He isn't looking at me, but rather at the place on my arm where his fingers still rest. I look too, and suck in air. Where there was a blank spot, now a single symbol burns, still angrily red in its newness against the silvery inlay of my older junctions. I don't recognize it. It should be an elemental symbol but it's none I've ever seen before. It takes me a few tries to work up the breath to ask, haltingly, "What- is that for?"  
  
He finally looks up at me. "It's an old symbol," he says unwillingly. "It's forbidden."  
  
I stare at the shape burned into my flesh. "Forbidden."  
  
He leans heavily against me, causing me to rest all of my weight against the brick wall behind me, and rests his head atop mine. "I can't promise you that no one will hurt you magically again. They can still hit you with status effects, and a strong enough mage can overcome any prevention. But forbidden magic is the strongest. It protects against all elements, as well as itself. It's as close as you can come."  
  
I move my gaze from my own junctions, choosing instead to focus on his left arm, resting temptingly on my shoulder. "Do you have it?"  
  
He shifts. "Yes."  
  
"Let me see."  
  
Reluctantly, he slides his trenchcoat off of his left shoulder. The white muscle shirt he wears underneath leaves his arms bare, and I can clearly see the writing lettered there.  
  
[standard SeeD-issue junction, GF/magic], then the SeeD and junction symbols again. But below that...  
  
GF/elem affiliations. Not just one, or two, or even three, which was rare but did happen. He had every damn one burned into his flesh, the symbols even smaller then usual, two rows of four. Leading off was Holy, which was sheened golden indicating a current GF junction; his main compatibility. But all the symbols had a touch of gold to them; fire was next, red-gold swirled... naturally, since that was his Limit Break. Then, in succession, marching down his skin, came wind, poison, neutrality, earth, water, and finally ice.  
  
I raised my eyes slowly to his, knowing without needing to see that, if I looked for his defenses, I'd see the same forbidden symbol that I now bore; or that his status A/D would be double biohazards.  
  
"Why?" the word escapes my lips softly, frayed nearly to nothingness. I can't imagine having such junctions. The forces to carry within, to harness, to master-- the *need* for such a thing...  
  
His hand touches my cheek, caresses it. "It was needed," he whispers in return. Pain shadows his eyes, turning them dark jade with memory.  
  
"Will I..." I can't look away from him, pressing myself into the wall behind me as if I could melt into it, feeling small and frightened. Strange, unsettling feelings. Loss of control. I've always hated such things. "Will it happen to me?"  
  
He looks away for a moment; when he looks back his eyes are shielded again. "Yes," he admits, a choked murmur, laced with regret and unavoidability. "If you want to survive... it's needed. It's the only way."  
  
I look down and feel myself enveloped. Not by the hard, cold, uncaring brick of the wall behind me, but by strong arms, a warm body against mine, wrapped up tightly. "It'll be okay," he whispers into my hair. "I promise."  
  
I close my eyes and lean against him, wanting desperately to believe that he could make everything right in a world I felt crumbling around me. Wanting, for the first time, to be protected.  
  
  
  
10:43 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
  
I can feel her trembling again, every quiver transmitted through my frame, and I hate that I frightened her. She is frightened, though she'd never admit it. I don't blame her a whit. If I were her I would have long since passed 'frightened' and be headlong into 'panic'. I've been careful not to tell her much but the preparations I made spoke for themselves. Second-level potions, the most advanced weapons, a junction plate that could send monsters running for their lives on the Island Closest to Hell... it told unmistakably of the magnitude of for what we were headed.  
  
I sigh softly, adjusting my grip so that my fingers rest on bare skin. "Just a few more spells, Quisty," I murmur as reassuringly as I can. "Okay?"  
  
I can feel her shaky nod giving me permission. Getting a firm lock on the magic I want to transfer, I let my fingers trace their symbols lightly on her skin. One by one they flow from me to her: Curagas, Regens, Lifes, Regens, Esunas, Shells, Protects... the litany goes on as she shivers, delicate as a breeze, filling with magic. Then the contact is broken. In the moment of silence following the transfer, I hand her a small stone.  
  
She studies it carefully, taking in its speckled green exterior and its smoky base color, then turns it over to see the symbol pressed in gold on the underside. "A GF?"  
  
I wrap my hand around hers, pressing the rough edges of the stone into her palm. "Carbuncle," I explain. "She'll shield you from most magic."  
  
"Where did you get her?" wonderingly.  
  
My half-smile is bittersweet, remembering Rinoa flinging her up in a doomed, last-ditch effort at protection. Innocent, naïve Rinoa, scarred and hardened by the Third Sorceress War. Her fading memory is a painful reminder of what could happen again. "An old friend," I tell her softly. "Here. Take this, too." The second object is a heavy gold ring, large enough to encompass both her thumbs, impressed on one side with an image so faded and worn it can barely be made out. I always thought it looked like a bird in flight, until I realized what the ring contained. "This is Doomtrain."  
  
"/Doomtrain!/" she gasped. "You *have* him? You're giving him to *me*?"  
  
"I have Alexander," I remind her, "and if I need to I can junction Ifrit and Diablos. Quezacotl is fine for conserving strength on lower-level encounters, but you're going to need something more powerful."  
  
"But- I can't come *close* to defeating GFs of this magnitude!"  
  
"You don't need to. Doomtrain has been imprisoned in that ring for a long, long time- he'll gladly join whomever frees him. And Carbuncle's a shy little sweetie; you won't have any problems with her."  
  
She stares at the two objects resting in her hands. "I'm not good enough," she whispers sadly.  
  
I brush her cheek, and she looks up, letting me hold her. "You will be," I promise. "You will be."  
  
  
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As Hourglass draws to a close I'm starting to think about my next fic. At the moment I really don't have any ideas, so I'm very open to suggestions. If anyone has a plot sitting around, or there's something you'd like to see but haven't got time to write yourself, pass it along. And if you're the hundreth reviewer, I'll let you pick the main couple, within reason (there are some pairings I just can't write. For example, I doubt I could pull off a convincing Quell if my life depended on it, so don't ask :)  
  
  
But that won't happen unless you stop sitting and get clicking! Or do both, but at least click :) Review within the next three seconds and, while you sleep I'll replace your old computer with a new one that looks just like it, while you sleep! ^_- (Duck the flying Dilbert joke...)   
  
  
Lyaka ^^  
  
  
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	11. 10:45 AM - 10:49 AM

*nervous laughter* Hey, everyone... I'm alive... and I have a very good excuse! First I went on vacation, then my mom got a cyst and had to have an operation, which meant that yours truly gets to cook dinners (and the stove has NOT exploded! *proud*) among other things, and with all that plus my evil summer job and college essays I have simply had no time. *puppy dog eyes* So I hope you'll all forgive me, and if not, then by all means yell at me in a review! (sly look)  
  
One more part after this, plus the epilogue and ANs. Still looking for ideas on what to do after this. I'm tossing an Ultimecia idea around, but I don't know yet if it'll amount to anything.  
  
Disclaimer: "Then Zeus came down from Mount Olympus and spake to Paris, saying, 'Thou shalt be the judge...'" Wait, you're actually *reading* this? You must know I don't own FFVIII or anything quoted herein.  
  
  
---------------  
~Hourglass~  
---------------  
  
  
10:45 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
The flash-burn on my arm has eased, leaving only a dull ache that will remain for the next two weeks. Casting magic or summoning GFs will be painful until the new junctions integrate successfully, but all in all it is a small price to pay for such power. For the kind I feel coming from him. Can he truly believe I can become as powerful as all that?  
  
I am always one step behind.  
  
Power radiates from him in waves; power, danger... and death. This is a man who has killed, for no better reason then he wanted to; this is a man who will kill again, for no better reason then he is told to.  
  
And he believes I can become just like him.  
  
A part of me is frightened, but I have been too long in SeeD. Most of me feels only pride.  
  
What that makes me, I do not choose long to ponder.  
  
  
10:46 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
I can't stop looking at her, the way she seem so suddenly fragile, skin flushed pale against the angry red of the biohazard symbol freshly burned onto her arm, bleached next to the ominous black of the death junction. She looks as if she might crumple with the next light breeze. Yet at the same time she looks stronger then the brick wall she leans against for support.  
  
A contradiction in terms.  
  
[Try not to get /too/ distracted,] Alexander's voice intrudes sardonically. [Your train leaves in ten minutes, and unless I'm much mistaken you haven't told her the plan yet...]  
  
Practical as always, the tolerantly crabby words reinforce my own sense of purpose. He's right, of course. Going into there clueless would be like offering Ultimecia Squall on a silver platter, gift-wrapped and with a note reading "Go ahead, take him; I don't mind." He would fall just as easily as I had...  
  
Well. Not quite.   
  
She played on my insecurities, used Matron's memories to her advantage and promised to rose-tint my world, but in the end it doesn't really matter. The decision was mind.  
  
At the time, I didn't feel I had any other choice.  
  
I want to tell her, I want to explain, I want to tell my truth to the pale angel before me but she can't know, must never know, and for what I did there can be no excuses. I didn't know, at the time, that Ultimecia offered more than a way out. A way out of the trap I'd created for myself at Garden. How much longer, I'd wondered, before they faced up to the fact that I wasn't going to make it and told me I had to leave? I didn't know that I would have made SeeD on my next try if she hadn't come. Ultimecia told me later, with the absolute certainty of one for whom my future is her past, with the careless maliciousness of one who views others as pawns or less. I didn't know, when I went with her, what she wanted me to do. But later, I knew. I knew, and I did it anyway.  
  
Hyne help me.  
  
Yet even while I obeyed her orders, I believed I had no other choice. Thinking I had burned my bridges, believing I was irreversibly bound to her, knowing I could never leave I only dug myself in deeper.  
  
In the end, I lost everything, and as I wandered through Time Compression I finally came to realize the inevitability of the truth. And only after I had damned myself was I given a true way out. And all it really was was a way back in.  
  
And now that I really have a choice, I'm using it to go back.  
  
Fate, it seems, has a sense of humor.  
  
With a decidedly gallows streak.  
  
"Quisty," I open hesitantly, reluctant to break the sudden closeness, and I realize that not only is she leaning on me, not the wall, for support, she's actually /purring/. Quistis Trepe. Purring. In my arms. Reality check, please.  
  
[Years too late for that, my boy.]  
  
She looks up reluctantly and I swallow hard. "What?"  
  
"It's about Timber."  
  
Just that fast the mood changes. She straightens, going abruptly professional, and though I miss the contact I can't in good conscience complain. But then, very few things I have ever done have been in good conscience.  
  
"We should arrive in Timber at roughly 1256," I begin, trying to focus, as if this is a briefing no different from any other. But there's only us, and it's me in the front this time, describing the plan for a mission that, if successful, is the first step towards stopping the Third Sorceress War dead in its tracks only weeks-- even, possibly, less-- into its cycle of war, peace and revolution.  
  
"Squall and the others shouldn't arrive until 1300. The timing here is very important. The new television system will undergo a broadcast check at 1258. That's when she'll slip through. The station is supposed to come fully online and begin sending data at 1300. She plans to seize it.  
  
"Here's what will happen. I will go ahead when we get there, go directly to the comm station, and try to stop her on my own. It will obviously be best if I can talk her out if it, appeal to the real Matron and head all of this off without resorting to violence."  
  
Quistis looks at me oddly, and I realize that from her perspective, it's almost alien to hear me advocate nonviolence. Such a difference a year makes. I will fight again, for such is the life I have chosen, but never again will I seek it out. Only when all other options are exhausted will I resort to adamantine to solve my problems.  
  
This problem will require the latter. I have no illusions about my ability to defeat Ultimecia single-handedly, nor do I believe the lock she has on Matron can be broken with words alone. But before the fighting begins, there are a few questions I want to ask her, and a few things I want her to know.  
  
Timing is everything.  
  
"I need you to wait at the train station. When Squall shows up, give him the short version and get everyone-- including Rinoa-- to the comm tower."  
  
"Why Rinoa?" Surprise and professional indignation color her tone. "She's no part in this."  
  
"She has."  
  
"She hasn't been trained for this! Being the figurehead of a resistance faction doesn't mean that she can take on a mage powerful enough to control someone's mind."  
  
Yes, we thought that once, and at first it was true. Her inexperience was a distinct handicap at first, and it lead to the D-District prison and the single most terrible act I have ever committed. But underneath that spoilt exterior was steel waiting to be tapped, and when, outer layer flayed away, Rinoa reached for that inner strength, she became someone no one could have expected. Youth and naïveté tempered by the wisdom of every sorceress who lived before lent her a maturity that had been sorely lacking. She kept up, she got tough, and she learned fast. It was that or become a casualty of a war that cared nothing for innocents. By the end she was a different person-- trained, capable and very, very good. Good enough to face that final battle and win. Good enough to make SeeD after a token year of obligatory classes. And, knowing she was capable of this, she could be pushed to achieve it much more rapidly. She would do it again. It was the least I could do for her. The least I owed Squall.  
  
Quistis knew this expression by now, knew that behind my suddenly barricaded eyes ran reasons I could never explain. She nodded acquiescence, clearly still reluctant but accepting. I wanted to tell her how much that meant, her faith in me, and just how little I deserved it. I wanted to tell her a lot of things.  
  
For now, though, I had to settle for "Even if you get to the comm tower early, don't go in until 1302. No sooner. If I'm not out by then, you go in with weapons ready. Do you understand?" It's not much time, Hyne knows, but it's all I can risk. It will have to be enough.  
  
"There's more." I stare over her shoulder for a moment, unable to look at her. "If we have to fight, we can't kill her. Even if that means letting her escape."  
  
Quistis makes an impatient gesture. "Of course."  
  
"She's going to *try* to escape. She *plans* to- and she intends to take one of us with her."  
  
I can feel the sudden intensity of her gaze as it bores into me. "Specifically, she's gunning for me or Squall, though if she gets desperate enough she might try, later on, for someone else.  
  
"When you meet up with Squall, there's something you need to tell him. It won't mean anything to him now, and I hope to Hyne he won't need it, but if he's in danger he'll understand."  
  
"And if not, he'll never know." The neatness of the idea seems to appeal to her. I think of Galbadia Garden, of the battle there, of a power transfer that Ultimecia had warned me about in advance. Because it was history. Because it was inescapable, no matter how much of history she's managed to rewrite. And I think that, one way or another, Squall will know when he takes Rinoa's bond. But there is no need to burden her unnecessarily with knowledge that she cannot use, and so I say nothing to that.  
  
"Ready?"  
  
"Let's hear it."  
  
"Liel'aie ikuen."  
  
She's silent for a moment, turning the strange sounds over in her mind.  
  
"Repeat it," I order.  
  
"Liel'aie ikuen." Good. As long as she's got it now, I can count on her perfect memory to deliver the message accurately. Besides, I'll be there, and I'll use force if necessary to stop him. But if he doesn't choose to reject her, if force /is/ what it takes, he'll be tainted by her all his days.  
  
A sigh. "I guess that's it," I end. "After the battle, we'll need to head to Galbadia Garden and pick up Irvine, but at that point Squall's in command, and he doesn't remember a thing. Neither do Zell or Selphie."  
  
"Irvine does?"  
  
"Galbadia Garden doesn't use GFs regularly."  
  
"Neither does Trabia."  
  
"Selphie found one on her own and kept it junctioned."  
  
She nods slowly in comprehension. "All right," she says. "I'll suggest Galbadia Garden, and be discreet."  
  
I smile at her, unable to help myself despite the pressure and anticipation. "It will be fine," I say, as much to remind myself as to reassure her.  
  
Then a thought strikes me and I check the chronometer hanging from my equipment belt. "We'd better go now. By the time be buy our tickets and get on board..."  
  
She closes her eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath and a moment of relative calm. When she opens her eyes again my expression is controlled and relaxed.  
  
"Come on," I motion her. "Let's go."  
  
  
10:49 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
We ascent the last hill in perfect unison. SeeD-issue boots ring out smartly against cobblestone streets. Weapons, oiled and gleaming, catch stray rays of light. Upright profiles stride, businesslike and confident, past open shop doors.  
  
Ahead of us a building rises higher in our view with each step of ascent. Open-air on the far side, from here it appears solid. Massive, dark, cold and imposing, it is Transport, swift and impersonal.  
  
The Balamb City Train Station.  
  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Approaching departure point, ladies and gentlemen.  
  
And now it's time for... Choose Your Own Adventure!  
  
*ahem*  
  
"Ahead of you you see a blue button marked 'review'. Curious as to what this means, you read a small hand-lettered sign beneath it. This sign informs you that if you press the button and type a few words, a new part will be posted much more swiftly. If you choose not to press the button, however, the part may be delayed just as long if not longer.  
  
To leave a review, click the blue button and turn to the 'review' page.  
  
To skip the review, tell Satan Lyaka sent you."  
  
:p  
  
Lyaka ^^ 


	12. 10:50 AM - 10:55 AM

It's a pen! It's paper! It's the AUTHOR!   
  
Dum de de dum...  
  
Yes indeed, reports of my death are greatly exaggerated. I am still here! *crowds cheer* To be honest, I've had this part written for quite a few days now, and never had the time or inclination to type it up. A piece of advice for all those out there with summer jobs: if work calls during dinner one night and asks you to work 8 and a half hours the next day, say no. x.x  
  
Anyway, the delay was then, and this is now, with a brand-spanking new chapter for you to read! So before you do so, there are only two things you need to know:  
  
1.) Peripetia is a greek term, used to describe a point in a tragedy where things have changed so drastically that they cannot return to the way they formerly were. Basically it's a point of no return. (Don't you all feel proud that you know that now? Impress your friends! :)  
  
2.) Q: "What are you going to do tonight, Lyaka?"  
A: "Try to take over the world!"  
  
It will happen (one day *crosses fingers*), but until then Squaresoft still owns them. *sighs*  
  
Go for it!  
  
  
---------------  
~Hourglass~  
---------------  
  
  
  
10:50 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
The shadow of the building swallows us up far more swiftly than is comfortable, yet I feel as if we are stuck in slow motion. Belatedly I'm being hit with the reality of the situation. Realizing there was a chance to undo what I'd done did not mean actually doing it. Sitting in the disciplinary room was somehow removed from action. Even Balamb's sleepy, peaceful atmosphere lulled me for a time. But in the clammy, dim interior of the train station the last barriers are stripped away. Truth comes crashing in. This is tangible, this is real. This is happening.  
  
  
10:51 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
I shiver for reasons not fully understood. Instinctively I press closer, if that's even possible; we've been walking together already, almost snuggled in. The thought is almost enough to make me blush; if I dreamed of this I've forgotten, but a haunting familiarity lingers in the air, a sense of dèja vu all over again; an uncanny feeling that it's all been done before. But I can't spare the heat to blush, can only hope to reclaim the heat leeched from my skin in the darkened chill of the departure platform.  
  
The ticked booth is garish in the half-light, colors futuristic at the time of building now depressingly dated twenty years later. The sleek modernity of the bullet train is in marked contrast waiting through the aperture beyond it. No one in Balamb travels much, and tax bills to renovate the old station always get voted down. SeeDs don't get voting rights; our professional immunity means we're citizens of Garden, instead of a country; but we're the reason the trains keep running through.  
  
Behind the counter stands the same man who's been here since the station opened. The yellowing photograph of the ribbon cutting, hanging on the wall over his head, shows a bright, cheerful young man. Now I see only a grumpy, middle-aged bachelor, worn and exhausted by too many years of manning a forgotten station frequented only by mercenaries.  
  
The tickets are duly bought, and he wishes us a pleasant journey in words meaningless from endless, uninterested repetition. I thank him anyway, and the surprised flicker of life and gratitude that passes over his face is all the marks the difference between the musty, dying waystation and himself.  
  
We step into the open air next to the tracks on the far side of the building, bypassing the bullet train meant for dignitaries to reach the familiar passenger/freight train waiting for more ordinary, paying customers. Slowly we walk down, searching for the insignia on one of the cars that indicates there's a compartment aboard reserved for SeeD.  
  
It's a long walk, the cargo being attached to the control car first. Seifer says nothing as we walk past rows of freight stamped with the logo of ShinRa, Inc., his thoughts turned inward. I wonder what's going through his head- he knows so much more than I, and that knowledge can't be other than painful in this position. I consider touching his shoulder, breaking him out of it, but as freight cars give way to passenger compartments I decide it's better if he does his second-guessing now rather than later, after the fact, when he's got hindsight to guilt himself with.  
  
A handful of cars ahead, I spot the SeeD motif, catching the light.  
  
From here I can see the clock. It's no time in particular.  
  
  
  
10:53 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
  
All too soon we're there, and I wonder if the journey to Timber will pass with the same unknowing rapidity. Or will it drag out, endlessly, like skirting a black hole and watching light fall away until only blackness tests your limits as time approaches infinity...  
  
Neither is appealing.  
  
Seeing that I've come out of contemplation Quistis offers me a comforting smile. When did we switch roles, I wonder. I was trying to heal /her/, to heal the world.  
  
[No one has a monopoly on love,] Alexander counsels soberly, his words for once untouched by impatience or bitterness. [Light is good from whatever source it shines.]  
  
Silence seems to fit. There are no words that need speaking between us, whether insult or apology. Without need for pretense or performance we can simply be.  
  
The time for wonder and worry is rapidly coming to an end. In a little over two hours will be enacted the events that will plunge the world into chaos, whether it ends quickly thereafter or draws out again. Then there will be no turning back, no second-guessing. The point of peripetia will have been reached and passed.  
  
In light of the destruction yet to come, in the darkness of what loss will not occur, my worries seem small and petty. Foreknowledge is everything. Ultimecia had it, and the havoc she wreaked was terrible to see. But know I have it, too, and with mine to counter hers a balance an be struck, a balance previously sorely lacking.  
  
Even knowing all this, the magnitude still overwhelms.  
  
I want to change the world.  
  
  
10:54 AM  
(She said)  
  
  
The all-aboard call comes just as we reach the SeeD cabin. In front and behind us the few passengers who had gotten off to stretch their legs head back towards their respective compartments. The train will be mostly empty, this time of day; the serious travelers have already caught earlier trains, vacationers don't usually leave until after lunch, and most arrivals have either already gotten in or won't until fourteen hundred or later. The train will fill up at Timber, though; the 1304 to Deling City is always crowded.  
  
I climb aboard first and head straight for the keypad, first swiping my SeeD ID/credit then punching in my PIN. The device double beeps- accepted-- and the light turns green. I wave a hand at the door and it opens with an inviting /swoosh/. Then I turn back towards Seifer.  
  
  
  
10:55 AM  
(He said)  
  
  
  
The train's whistle blows stridently, summoning its crewers back from their coffee and restroom breaks.  
  
I pause briefly, halfway up the steps, one hand still on the metal guardrail, and look behind me. The top of Balamb Garden is barely visible on the horizon, its dome gleaming, unobstructed from the sun. I remember the pride I felt when I sat on the pier in FH and watched it fly overhead, strong and magnificent. I remember the uniform, and how badly I wanted it. I remember the worry, the doubt, and especially the questions.  
  
Then I look up, and the last die unasked. Quistis stands there waiting for me, framed in the train's narrow doorway. morning sunlight catches on her, coalescing in her golden hair, flaring around her in a glimmering corona. Stray bits of light catch on the metal of the train and refract in her eyes.  
  
She's smart and funny and deadly and altogether beautiful.  
  
She is my reason. For her I can face Ultimecia and my demons. Erase them, so that things can be different, this time around, for she and I, for Squall and Rinoa, for Zell and Selphie and Irvine and countless people I never knew, never met, before I sent them to die.  
  
And for her sake, for their sake, for all of our sakes, I step up, into the darkness within; or perhaps the light.  
  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Kon'de ashimai  
  
(the end...)  
  
The epilogue will be up in a few days, I *think*; well, Wednesday at the absolute latest, since I go back to school Thursday (shudders) and I'd like to wrap it up before then. The Author's Notes will be out a few days after that. I know a lot of people tend to skip them, but you really shouldn't. I'm going to explain a lot of things, mention you (that's right! you personally!), point out each and every place I quoted/referenced something (so you can do a happy dance and go "oooh! oooh! I knew that!") and include a teaser for my new project. So stay tuned.  
  
Now, if you want your name to be up in lights, I have to know what it is first! Fortunately, there's an easy solution: leave me a review. Or else when I take over the world, you're getting *my* current job. Mwahahahaha.  
  
Lyaka ^^  
  
(oooh! what does this button do?) 


	13. thirteen hundred hours

Well... here it is! I was starting to wonder if I'd get it done in time, but here I am so I guess that answers that, right?  
  
I hope everyone likes it, because I tried hard to make this a worthy ending to the rest of the series. And as a side note: Bippo, if it looks like I'm mocking you... I probably am. ^^v it's all part of the fun.  
  
Most of the notes are at the end.  
  
  
---------------  
~Hourglass~  
---------------  
  
  
  
1258 hours::[Timber]  
(she said)  
  
  
We pulled up smoothly, the train coming to a neat stop perfectly aligned with the platform. Seifer disembarked the second it halted. I was right behind him.  
  
Amidst the hustle and bustle of other passengers, exiting, boarding, calling for children in the crowd, we edged over to an adjacent track standing empty.  
  
"This is where Squall's train will arrive," he said breathlessly.   
"Private track. Unscheduled. Remember, tell him and get him over to the comm tower. Not before 1302."  
  
I nodded. "Right, right." Then hesitated. "Seifer... what are you going to do? Will you be all right?" I hate to admit it but I'm scared. I can't say I've seen firsthand how dangerous this person is but irrationally I feel I have.  
  
He brushes my cheek gently. "I'll be fine," he tells me softly. "I've got a few questions to ask her. Don't worry about me, okay?"  
  
A nod.  
  
In an oasis of open space on a swiftly tilting planet, he kisses me roughly, and the taste of all the words he can never say is on his lips.  
  
Then he's gone, and I stand alone.  
  
  
1300 hours::[comm tower]  
(he said)  
  
  
Ultimecia was standing in the center of the room, fancying herself unobserved, fiddling with that ridiculous attire of hers. And laughing to herself. I'd long suspected that her grip on sanity was tenuous at best. Of course that only made her more dangerous.  
  
I needed to startle her, catch her off guard, make her wary and desirous of talking, finding out exactly what made me different from the Seifer she was expecting. Postpone her reflex reaction to blow me three ways from next Sunday. Not that it would work quite so well against me; the body protection of the knight is the last thing to go, so she told me.  
  
But it would be kind of hard to have a conversation then.  
  
So when I spoke to her, it was not in the common tongue.  
  
/Kon'nichi wa, Ultimecia-sama./  
  
She spun like a viper, arrowing in on me instantly. I could see the wheels turning in her head: why hadn't she sensed my approach? Why wasn't I dragging President Deling in tow? And, by far most importantly, how had I been able to greet her in the ancient language?  
  
/Kon'nikhi wa,/ and her reply was exactly what I wanted, suspicious and wary. She cocked her head to one side, studying me. "Poor little boy," she murmured.  
  
I outright laughed. "Stow it," I recommended. "Been there, done that. Not going to work this time."  
  
Her eyes widened, and I could feel the lash of her powers. "Your time signature is all wrong," she breathed. "You've... you're... Time Kompression?"  
  
I strode a few paces closer, smiling in a friendly manner. "Now now, sho'cala, you should know the answer to that."  
  
The name was what really caught her; I doubt she even heard anything I said after that. Sho'cala literally meant 'sorceress', but it was an informal term that really could only be used in a non-offensive manner by one's knight.  
  
Her eyes flew to my right arm, and the fingertips of her left hand came up to brush hers. A simple gesture, as if brushing lint away, but even such a simple touch caused her mark to flare up, lighting the dim room in silver. The mark of the sorceress, complex and irremovable. She had the grace not to let her jaw drop when she saw the same mark on my arm. The mark was the same for anyone gifted with sorcery, but the location varied.  
  
"You're my knight," she breathed. "But how--" then her eyes narrowed predatorily, and I could see pieces going /click-click-click/ in her mind. "You've done all this before." It was not a question. "Very well. What did I send you to tell me?"  
  
I wanted to laugh again; so self-assured, confident that she'd win if only this time, this way, she did it right. Unknowing of her failures, boundless confidence and desperate need drove her to reshape the past in her own image, unaccepting of failure.  
  
"Do you remember Trabia Garden?"  
  
She blinked. This was clearly not what she was expecting, but still laboring under the delusion that this would lead to her eventual success, she paused to try to recall the information. It was almost frightening how much she seemed like a normal, ordinary person who happened to possess extreme powers. In battle, when using those powers, she seemed otherworldly, cruel, maniacal. But alone, secluded, in a conference with someone she trusted to help her and care for her, she showed a disarmingly human side.   
  
And she did trust me, damn it. Ultimecia was deranged, crazy, amoral and cruel, but she was that way because she had no other choice. Prosecuted from childhood onward for powers she couldn't help inheriting, besieged for years by SeeD forces in the magical castle she had constructed out of fright, she had never learned to trust, never learned kindness or mercy or love. She had deserved none of it. But impressed upon her as a child was the strength of the knight bond, her parents who had died together leaving her the burden to carry and no one to lean on. She trusted it, trusted me, as she did no one else. I meant to shatter that trust, but I meant also to save her if she could be saved. First, I knew, she would have to be defeated. Once she knew I was no longer her loyal slave she would turn against me just as quickly and easily, and be all the more jaded for it; but in the end, if she could be given a normal chance at life... the world after the war had become almost accepting. That attitude would be lost centuries before her birth, but if she could stay here...  
  
But first, the battle.  
  
"Trabia! Yes! I remember." Her face cleared. "I had to destroy it."  
  
Anger ran through sympathy. "So you knew, when I launched those missiles."  
  
Puzzlement. "Of kourse."  
  
A step forward. "You told me Garden wouldn't be harmed." Angry.  
  
"Ah!" Understanding. "Balamb Garden. It's mobile. It won't be harmed. Trabia, yes, that must be destroyed."  
  
I turn away in disgust and take a deep breath. "It won't happen this time."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I'll warn them in advance."  
  
"You'll-" she gasped, and I look at her sideways. "You kan't! I forbid it!"  
  
"Sorry, not taking your orders anymore."  
  
"In a few moments you'll kome through that door and join me again," she said confidently.  
  
Now I let myself laugh. "I am the one who came through that door. I am the Seifer of this time period. And I know what you don't."  
  
"And what is that?" her whisper suddenly shows her age. So many people thought she was older because she was in Matron's body, but I know I'm conversing with a fifteen-year-old girl who only knows what she's doing because she read it in a history book.  
  
I turn to her and tell her the truth. Because she deserves to know it. "You're going to lose. No matter what. You chose me and you chose wrong. You never had a chance to win."  
  
Her eyes were suddenly bleak. "No."  
  
"I'm sorry," and I really am, beneath the anger and the frustration and the guilt for everything I did, everything she did, everything she caused, I still feel sorry for this child-sorceress. "I'm going to try to make it better, but you can't do things the same way this time."  
  
"Watkh me," she shot back rebelliously. "So you're the Seifer of this time, and khoosing you was my mistake, was it? So in a few minutes Squall Leonhart the Hero's going to kome through that door. Maybe bonding him will work better. I've..." she looked tired. "You must know I've got nothing else left but to try."  
  
"I know," I tell her sadly. "You know I can't let you succeed."  
  
Childlike eyes in a centuries-old face regard me sadly. "We shall just have to find out, sha'nt we?"  
  
I nod. "Afterwards," I said, "promise you'll stay for a while. There's got to be a better way."  
  
Then I hear the door swing open, and we both instinctively look over.  
  
They've arrived.  
  
  
1302 hours::[Comm Tower]  
(o n t o i n f i n i t y)  
  
  
The moment Squall stepped into the room, everything ceased to exist except for he and Ultimecia.  
  
"Poor little boy," she murmured. "Poor, lost little boy."  
  
"I'm no a little boy," he said warily, one hand on his gunblade. "I'm a SeeD."  
  
"But you're lost all the same," she said dreamily. Almost as if she wasn't talking to him at all. "You're lonely, and skared, and tired... I kan feel it. You kan be more," she said with sudden viciousness, golden eyes peering straight into Squall's own, through the storm into his soul. "You are a lion, waiting to be released. Strike at those who kaged you!" She stretched out a hand, pleading and commanding all at once. "I kan help you! I kan!"  
  
The force of her presence overwhelmed him, pressing in on his senses. Images burned into his eyes. Respect, love, devotion. Peace. Rest. Friendship. And power. Breathtaking power. To never have to worry about loss, never to lie awake at night dreading that your decisions will send someone to an early grave. To be a lion. She offered him this.  
  
Ultimecia watched his eyes widen, his lips part. He was tempted, so tempted. Warnings and reasons flew out of his head and he took a step, the first step, towards her.  
  
Her lips curved upwards in a cruel mockery of a smile. "Hai," she whispered. "Kiele'kuei."  
  
He paused.  
  
The words triggered something else in him, something ancient and very nearly primal. Amid the whirlwind of what she promised him came something new, overlooked the first time. Buried beneath as if irrelevant came a hereditary bequest of language, old language, lost since the time of Hyne but passed down by those who succeeded her in both blood and magic. The gift of sorcery in ancient tongues.  
  
/Kiele'kuei/ meant "come to me."  
  
He found himself remembering other words, spoken hastily, syllables stumbled over by one who knew only the sounds, not the meaning. Quistis' voice hit him out of left field, a mental foul ball clocking an unsuspecting spectator. Accent cleared through understanding. Realization achieved by danger.  
  
/Liel'aie ikuen/ meant "don't go with her."  
  
Double perspective cleft his vision in twain, choices arrowing into infinity. But in the end it was a question of trust, and so, really, no question at all.  
  
He took a step backwards.  
  
  
///////  
  
  
Fourteen years old. Garden. Just finished with his basic combat prerequisites. That meant it was time for a rite of passage-- an introduction into the Training Center.  
  
His guide for the journey was a bigger, blond-haired boy he was sure he knew from somewhere, even though he wasn't quite sure where. Halfway through he'd met his first challenge, a monster he'd later learn to recognize as being common, annoying and called a Grat.  
  
"Huh," said the elder youth, inspecting the corpse. "Not bad, I guess. You'll get better."  
  
Years later those words would be grounds enough for violence, blood on sharp blades under a stormy sky. But the younger Squall only continued staring at the corpse. "He was no match." Voice already so emotionless, so closed off, unreadable to the other. "It wasn't very fair."  
  
The blond leaned down, wiping his Garden-issue basic training knife on the grass. "It doesn't matter," he said unexpectedly.  
  
Something flickered in grey eyes as they lifted to regard the elder coolly. "Why?"  
  
A grunt. "SeeD is a mercenary force," he said finally. "We fight for money, not for morals. People pay us to beat their problems until they can't stand up again, and that rarely means playing fair. If you can't accept that, you'd better get out of here while you're still young." Silence- no way to tell his reaction. "You just can't do both, is what ya gotta accept. Can't be a man and a SeeD at the same time."  
  
Silence.  
  
  
///////  
  
  
Silence.  
  
Squall looked up at the sorceress and saw, through the power and the deception, what was truly there. Someone who had made the choice and lost. Someone who had become something greater and given up everything they were, everything that mattered, in exchange.  
  
/Liel'ch'ye mysse nai,/ he said flatly, not realizing that he spoke the ancient tongue as fluidly as if he had grown up with it. Caught in the whirlwind of power and choice he said only what was needed in the only way she might understand. "I don't need you."  
  
/Liel'kiele leon./  
  
"I am a lion."  
  
  
///////  
  
  
You unlock this door with the key of imagination.  
  
Beyond it lies another dimension.  
  
It is trapped between light and dark, between shadow and substance, between life and death.  
  
It is neither here nor there, neither now nor then, neither yet-to-come nor never-to-be.  
  
It is the crossing point between things and ideas, the transfer of dreams from reality, a place utterly of mind yet completely of body.  
  
In the total silence and deafening noise, the last grains of an hourglass has long since run down.  
  
A phrase, a choice, and a course.  
  
A new glass is poised.  
  
This glass is larger; the sand, more voluminous. Meant to last longer.  
  
As it is turned over, the Third Sorceress War has begun.  
  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is that.  
  
  
I know some of you were hoping I'd wrap it all into a brown paper package tied up with string, but that's low on the list of my favorite things, so you'll just have to use your imagination. ^_-  
  
  
If there is anything you desperately must have answered, ask me in a review and I'll include it in the ANs.  
  
  
Also, for an interesting twist: by my count there are three plot holes in ~Hourglass~. One is a silly mistake on my part that a decent first-grade education should have (but didn't) prevent, one is a small one that I did deliberately to make things work, and one is pretty big (actually, it wrecks the whole continuity if you think about it) and most certainly was NOT done on purpose. I was rather expecting people to call me on one of them, but so far not a peep. Now that I've told you, see if you can spot it. The silly one will be fixed when I post the ANs, but the other two are in there to stay because they're just part of the story and it's too late to make it any other way.  
  
  
There were a few people asking me if there was going to be a sequel. Well, not now, at any rate. I have a feeling that if I tried to keep right on going my creativity in this style would run out and it just wouldn't measure up. I want to try a few other things. If, however, after I've taken a good break, there's still a lot of support, I wouldn't mind writing another fic in the ~Hourglass~ universe. It wouldn't be a direct sequel, I can tell you that, but I've got a pretty good idea of what happens as a result of all this (even though I din't tell you... evil, aren't I? ;) and I do have rough outlines hanging around. I just don't want to do anything more with it right now, but feel free to bug me in reviews of my next project.  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
[Cue Kermit the Frog!]  
  
  
Lyaka: "Today's fanfic has been brought to you by the suffix '-ing'... as in 'violating'; 'copywriting'; but also 'forgiving', and 'not suing'."  
  
And let's not forget: 'reviewing!'  
  
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	14. author's notes

Hey everybody!  
  
Well, this took me a tad longer than I expected. Actually, about a week longer than I expected. ^^;;; School started, and the first days are always a little hectic. Then, when I *had* spare time, I discovered something about myself: I can be really, really unmovitated when I want (or don't want) to be. :p  
  
Anyway, this has shortened some as a result of the delay. For one thing, the teaser I promised turned out to be unnecessary: I had so much spare time during AP Euro and AP Calc that the first part of 'In Dreams' is already up. Check it out after you're done here, and of course, leave a review.  
  
Also, the list of what I "borrowed" from other stuff has gone the way of the dodo. I sat down to write it and realized a.) this was incredibly boring and b.) does anyone really care anyway? I will say, however, in response to a few comments, that I didn't lift paragraphs or anything. It was more cameos and catch-phrases. For example, "Cadet" Ken Hidaka in part 5 doubles as an assassin from the anime Weiß Kreuz, and I'm sure some of you spotted the title from "Whose line is it anyway?" somewhere back in chapter 3. It's little things like that, not out-and-out plagarism. Though I will say that anyone who reads "The Handmaid's Tale" by Margaret Atwood would probably stop every other chapter and realize afresh just how much homage I paid that book in ~Hourglass~.  
  
So the moment you've all been waiting for: personal comments! Woo-hoo! Now these were fun. I've been wanting to answer some of these for a while, but didn't want to ruin the plot for people who asked very, very good questions.  
  
Not-really-in-alphabetical-order-but-sort-of:  
  
Airin-chan! *hugs* Where do I start? Thanks for absolutely everything, from poking me not-so-subtly to check out IcyBrian to being my idea-bouncing-board to not whacking me with plushies for taking so long to read your ZenxMarron fic. I'll get to it next, I promise, right after my AP English homework. School sucks.  
  
Alonia Everclear: *faints* I've been acknowledged by the patron saint of Seiftii! Yay! And thanks for the nomination. I'm still not sure where PLGC came from, but I'm glad you liked it.  
  
Alse: I really, really hope you stuck around to read the rest of what I wrote, because what you wrote really stuck with me. Posting ~Hourglass~ wasn't something I was very confident about, because I felt I'd missed on a lot of things. Hearing that you'd gone through the same thing and tried the same approaches meant a lot to me, and I needed it. A lot of this was because of you.  
  
Baconfat! You were there in the middle, then vanished. But while you were there you were great, long reviews, glowing compliments, what more can an author ask? Just... come back again!  
  
Bippo, Bippo, Bippo. What am I going to do with you? Well, I guess you'll have to use your imagination to decide if Seifer gets stuck in an endless loop or not. My personal take on that is that succeed or fail it's impossible, because either way things are *different* from the first time. There's no guarauntee, if Squall goes, that they'll even survive to get *in* to Time Compression, or defeat Ultimecia if they do. As a matter of fact, I'd consider it pretty damn unlikely. But you made me consider it as a possibility, and I'd like to see what his reaction would be if that did happen. Interested?  
  
Cyrell: yo! I endlessly adore you for the fact that you reviewed every time. Oh yeah, and you wrote "lest we forget", which I persist in thinking is awesome. Along with you. I'm sure you'll forgive me for not leaving you with the cliffhanger... you can get that experience in the next fic. Which you'll read, right? Right? *puppy eyes*  
  
JessieBlueEyes: *taps foot* and just where is the next chapter of *your* fic? C'mon, girl, get writing! And BTW, thanks for the review, the cameo, heck, just thanks! *hugs, cookies and Zell*  
  
leighton: *blushes* I'm really not that good, but I'm glad you'll stick around for the next chapter. Go ahead and sign a review anyway-- you don't have to be a member to type your name in the box. I'd love to see you around more.  
  
lanesa: you're not going to believe it, but your fic "Kiss the Stars" (or something like that) was the very first Seiftis I ever read. I realize I never left a review, which I keep meaning to rememdy, but I appreciate that you left me one anyway ^^;;; you're a very good author yourself, so I'm glad you thought my work worth your time. You find a new way to make me float every time. *hugs* thank you, so much.  
  
magistrate: ano... I have a good reason for missing hte last, oh, twenty of so chapters of Burning Soul. Really. MM-hmm. Laziness had nothing to do with it. Argh... hope I haven't missed the end of the world. Then again, how could you survive without me? I loved your weird review, it made me feel un-alone in my insanity. Quite Sanity is overrated. And... I'll get back soon. Really. Honest. ^^;;;  
  
melete: awww, I love fuzzy warms *hugs a stuffed animal* but I see your point, and I hope I didn't delve /too/ far into sap-ville. It was, after all, not really the point.  
  
nanaseven: Wow, really? I'm not sure if I deserve that, but thank you very much anyway! Coming at the beginning it was more powerful to hear, and of course you can see I appreciated the pickle reference. ^_- And the second review rocked too (skittles? what is with with the food? not that I don't like food...)  
  
PinkStarz: Very similarly to my Alonia review, I'm amazed that the patron saints of this pairing actually read this fic. Every time I saw a name of an author like you I practically flew. I don't deserve to be told that this is the best Seiftis ever, but don't worry, my ego expanded anyway. ;)  
  
Qucykysilver: you reviewed me! Yay! *feels all happy* and Irvy wasn't even in this story, and you read it anyway. All I need now is my request and I'm a happy author. *subtle hinting* :p here, have a charachter *hands over ~Houglass~Irvy* he's... complaint. ^_-  
  
Quistis88! You put me on your favorites list! *in shock* I'm moving up in the world.   
  
Saravien, another regular! *hugs hugs* You've stuck with this story for pretty much the whole thing, and never failed to say something new and different every time. I can't answer everything you said in just a few lines, but knowing I'd see your name on a review every time did wonders for my motivation. And the favorites list helped too. :)  
  
seyanaidi: you came, you saw, you reviewed. 'Nuff said.  
  
Voice in the wind: nice catch ^_-. You were the only one who bothered to mention any references, making me wonder if no one pays attention in English class anymore :) It was great, though, keeping me from feeling like an utter idiot. There's more in 'In Dreams' so keep hunting!  
  
OTHER:  
  
Aligator, Aniiston, Sleeping Soul (Nightwish fan, are we?), cherry-blossoms854, Apple Pie, Makoto Almasy, Dalpal, Seifer'sGurl, Ali, Witch Baby, paladin, Heavenz Little Angel, Rikku-chan, Wicca, jtyw, Starwhispere, Quartzite, dd, fallen, LiL LoNeLY iSa, Jen, Cloudspun, Sorceress Ruby, Miss-Kittie, dee, Vanessa, Gold (o.O The author of "In Whose Name?" reviewed *me*?!?!), seiferfetish  
  
(aka everyone who said "It's good, write more")  
  
You didn't say much, but hey, it's a review, right? And as you can see, I was more than happy to oblige. Hope you liked all of it, not just the particular chapter you reviewed. *giant hugs and lots of cookies*  
  
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And that's a wrap, people.  
  
Hop on over to 'In Dreams', onegai shimasu:  
  
Lyaka ^^ 


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